


The Curse of the Ghoul King

by thebigpalooka



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Disney Cartoons (Classic)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Gen, Halloween, Humor, Romance, Spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-08-02 19:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 81,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16311530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebigpalooka/pseuds/thebigpalooka
Summary: Stolen memories, a dark forest, frightening creatures, a powerful curse and a haunting secret!  The fate of Mickey and his friends depends on finding the answers.  But can they uncover the mystery in time?





	1. The Swamp

It’s too late to stop it now.  The wind is getting louder, so loud that it all but carries her voice away.  She has to shout, and even then, her voice is weak, helpless.

“It’s gonna be okay.  I’ll find you! I promise!”

But the wind is too strong now to hear her answer.  It’s getting darker, too dark to see.

_ Where am I? _

_ Who … who … am I ….? _

 

“Ow…”

He was dreaming when it woke him, but the dream was gone as soon as he opened his eyes, leaving only confusion and a sharp headache.  He lay on his back, but his whole body ached. He was on the ground. At first he thought he was in a room with an orangey-pink ceiling, but suddenly he realized it was the open sky, impossibly vibrant and dark.  Somewhere in the distance, there was a deep rumble of thunder, and he realized it was this sound which had roused him. Why did his head hurt so badly? Mickey rolled to his knees, wincing as a hot flash of pain brought his hand to his temple.  It passed after a moment, but left him gasping for breath. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t - 

He couldn’t  _ remember _ . 

The realization struck him like the pain had, and he lifted his head sharply in spite of that, struggling to focus on something familiar, on anything at all, as his vision blurred and sharpened with each hard blink.  He was on the ground, under the sky. In the middle of nowhere. There was gravel and rocks, some scraggly-looking brush. Dark shapes loomed against that overheated sky, and he realized they were larger formations of stone, carved by the wind and rain into eerie pillars and hollows.  It was desolate, alien, and he couldn’t remember how he got here. He couldn’t remember  _ anything _ .

Mickey pushed himself to his feet.  He  _ was _ Mickey, he knew that much.  But that was all. He knew his name, knew he was himself, whatever that meant, and beyond that was a vast blank nothing, an empty hole with nothing inside it but the conviction that it ought not be empty, that he should remember - that he had to remember - but he didn’t know what.

“...What’s goin’ on?” he muttered aloud.  Even the sound of his own voice was vaguely comforting.  The headache was clearing now, and if it all seemed unreal, that sky and the faintly misty wilderness, at least he was pretty sure he was actually awake.  He stood where he was for a minute or two before it occurred to him to even look down at himself. He didn’t recognize the clothes he was wearing, but maybe that wasn’t surprising, either.  A dingy blue longcoat over a waistcoat of the same color, nondescript shirt. Scuffed boots. He tried to summon a memory of getting dressed, but it was pointless. His mind was blank. He ran a hand over his face, chasing away that ache behind his temples, before assessing his surroundings again.  Still the middle of nowhere. It should’ve frightened him more, but Mickey couldn’t even work up the strength to feel panicked. He felt weak and sluggish, almost limp, but he gathered himself up, straightened his coat, and, glancing around, noticed for the first time a battered-looking hat lying nearby.  It seemed to match the coat, so he shrugged and stooped to pick it up, settling it on his head with the air of a man committing himself to getting something accomplished, no matter how small. That done, he felt like there was nothing to do but start moving, since it seemed unlikely anyone was going to come looking for him in a place like this, if anyone was looking for him at all.  There was a sort of an opening in the rocks off to the right, so Mickey started walking that way, casting glances up at the sky every so often when the thunder would start rolling again. If there was a storm out there, it didn’t seem to be getting any closer, at least not yet.

Something had happened to him, he settled on this much quickly.  Something bad, but not so bad that it wouldn’t sort itself out somehow.  Right? He was obviously all in one piece. Maybe he had some sort of accident.  Mickey squinted up at the sky. There was a bank of deep purple clouds on the horizon, and the lightning he could see flickering within them was an unusual color, more of a sickly green than he felt was typical.  Well, maybe he hit his head, he concluded, returning to his own thoughts. Either this was all the result of some type of injury or else maybe he really was dreaming after all - only it was certainly a vivid one, if that was the case.  Mickey touched his cheek again absentmindedly, then his nose just to see if it was bleeding. He felt like head injuries made you bleed from the nose, maybe. But there was nothing there, so he walked on.

After a little while, the rocky hollow he was walking through began to slope gently, until at last Mickey came out of the little canyon he’d been walking through to find himself on the top of a rocky rise.  There was a path, or at least a smoothish place in the rocks, which led down the hill and across a little plain toward a dark forest that stretched out about as far as he could see. A little cold breeze blew across his face and Mickey shivered.  He didn’t quite like the look of those trees - or of the sound they made when the wind went through them - but then again, he also didn’t like the look of those dark clouds, which looked to be getting closer by the minute. At least in the woods, he might have some shelter if it started to pour.  Anything was probably better than standing like a fool on the bluff, so Mickey headed down the hill.

The rain started just as Mickey reached the treeline, which he felt was lucky.  It wasn’t a hard rain at first, and in fact, it was a lot warmer than Mickey expected considering the chill in the air.  He followed what seemed like a clear enough path a ways inside the forest anyway. It was as dark as he’d thought it would be.  He could hear the wind and rain in the leaves, a rustling that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. He found himself darting glances this way and that, now convinced there was something alive in the bushes, now hearing something in the branches above him.  Once or twice he caught a glimpse of fluttering wings, unable to tell even if he was seeing a bird or a bat, but nothing larger. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched though, and the deeper he went, the darker it got, and the stronger the feeling became.

At last, there was a distinct sound from somewhere behind him, a real, unmistakable noise of snapping twigs and underbrush moving.  Mickey whirled around. “All right! I hear ya in there! Now just - just come on out! Y-y-ya -”

He stopped short, realizing far too late that the sound of his voice had not scared the creature off, but had in fact finally pinpointed his position to it.  The rustling turned into a racket as whatever was following him now made a rush straight for him. Mickey’s heart flew into his throat; he braced himself, unsure whether he was about to fling himself up against some wild animal to fight for his life, or spring into the bushes and make a dash for it.

He was too slow.  The creature burst into the open and Mickey had time for one startled yell before he was flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and his chest was pinned down by two massive paws, hot breath in his face, a deafening bark and the beast was attacking him, eating him alive, he was, he was - 

He was licking Mickey’s face all over.  It took a few seconds for reason to return, and Mickey found his limbs were flailing in a useless attempt to free himself.  He stopped doing that, and instead wormed his hands up under the creature’s neck, finally managing to push it aside and roll out from under.  The beast gave a little whimper at this, like Mickey had hurt his feelings, and that was the first Mickey realized, pulling himself quickly to his feet, that he’d been jumped by nothing more or less than a big yellow dog.  The dog was sniffing at him all over, alternating between those concerned whines and a little combination bark and hop that was clearly an earnest attempt to convey something, only Mickey had no idea what that was. He was relieved though, and broke into a smile.  Heh. Only a dog - and he’d been so afraid. He held his hand out for the beastie to sniff, offering a faint laugh.

“H-hi, fella.  Are you lost too?  Whoa!” As Mickey spoke, the dog’s ears shot up, and he gave another bark, leaping up onto Mickey’s chest again before Mickey could stop him.  He lost his balance all over again and sat down hard. The pup didn’t act sorry at all, only took advantage of the situation to seat his entire self on Mickey’s lap and wash his face like a fussy nursemaid.  Mickey squirmed, breaking into helpless laughter. “Aw, for - gee - help! All right, all RIGHT!” He managed at last to wrestle the beast into a headlock and knuckled him between the ears. The dog sat down obediently at Mickey’s side, but his tail thumped so hard against the ground Mickey found himself laughing all over again.  “Well, gosh, yer a friendly cuss, aren’tcha? Hmm….” There was a small silver medallion hanging around the dog’s neck. Mickey caught it and managed to read it in between dodging that restless pink tongue. “Pluto,” he said aloud, and the reaction was immediate. The dog barked right in his face and waggled so furiously that Mickey lost his grip and was promptly crushed again.

“Ha ha - okay, ya big sap, geddoff me!  I get it, I get it! That’s your name, right?  Pluto? Ah AH!” He shot to his feet, held out a threatening finger before the dog could pounce on him.  “...That’s better. Are ya lost, boy?”

Pluto barked, which Mickey chose to interpret as meaning “sure, pal, let’s stick together until we get the heck outta these woods.” He thumped the dog’s golden back reassuringly. “Aw, don’t worry. I’ll look after ya okay, huh? Must have a master around this place somewhere. Got that nice collar and everything. Bet he’ll be missin’ ya.” Pluto whimpered again at this, pawing at Mickey with such a sorry look in his eyes that Mickey stopped to pet him again. “Maybe he can answer some questions for me too. Well - c’mon, Pluto!” He turned and headed on down the path again, this time with Pluto at his side. Mickey felt a great deal more confident now, what with a fine big dog for a companion. He cleared his throat. “I… I guess yer probably wondering what I’m doin’ all the way out here - huh?” Pluto looked up at him, tongue lolling out encouragingly. Mickey appreciated it. “Well, it’s the strangest thing, but I can’t seem to remember anything before I woke up a little while ago. It seems like I ought to - and I don’t feel sick or nothin’ - but it’s just … not there. Ya know?” He sighed, and Pluto licked his hand sympathetically. “...I’m sure it’ll all come back,” he hastened to add. “It’s just that … what if somebody’s out there lookin’ for me? An’ what if it  _ don’t  _ come … back ….” Mickey trailed off. The pathway before them now took a turn down a little slope, and beyond that, Mickey could make out faint little flickers of light in the deepening gloom. “Fireflies,” he murmured, and made his way down the slope. Down here, the path grew muddy, and the underbrush was thick with ferns, moss, and even some cattails. Vines and ivy were hanging thickly from the trees around the path, which themselves seemed soggier than the ones at the forest’s edge, slouching in on themselves like under-baked cakes, leaves drooping almost to the forest floor. Sickly green reflections shone off the surface of a stagnant-looking pool of water near the path’s edge, winding off into the reeds and shadows so that the far banks were not visible.

As Mickey hesitated, a moan came curling through the trees once more. Pluto started to whine, feet pattering in a nervous little dance until Mickey rested a hand on his head.

“Hey, it’s okay, boy.  It’s nothin’ to be s-scared of.”  He pushed out what he meant to be a sensible chuckle.  It came out as a nervous bleat and he cleared his throat hastily.  “Er, well, anyway, it’s just an’ old swamp, that’s all.” It was, wasn’t it?  It was definitely just the wind, but gosh did that clump of moss seem to be moving.  And what was  _ that _ ?  A shadow passed over them, and Mickey sucked in a breath so sharply it made a high-pitched unmanly sound.  “...C-c’mon, Pluto!” His voice cracked. “Let’s uh … move a little faster.” He did so, casting frequent looks over his shoulder. Each step landed with a wet squelch, and he didn’t like that much, advertising each movement to the whole neighborhood.

“Funny sorta place,” Mickey muttered, squinting closely at a shadow in the trees. As he tried to make it out in the dark, his foot sank into something soft. Mickey yelped, springing back to free himself, and managing to knock both his head and his left elbow against the low-hanging branches of a nearby tree. The impact startled the shadowy mass, which dissolved at once into a whole mess of chattering, fluttering bats. Mickey gave another startled bleat, swiping them away from his head and ears while Pluto practically twisted himself into a knot trying to catch, chase, or bark at as many of them as possible. Somehow, they managed to get tangled up in each other’s legs in the middle of it, and mouse and dog both tumbled down into a heap on the mossy bank.

Mickey sat up, more embarrassed than hurt, even though nobody’d seen but Pluto. Somewhat unfairly, Mickey  chose to turn his scolding in this direction. “Aw, geez,” he griped aloud. “Now just calm down, wouldja? Just ‘cause my head’s a - a little messed up at th’ moment, that ain’t any reason to lose yours too, right?” Pluto, listening attentively, drew his tongue back into his mouth and nodded guiltily. Mickey nodded too. “That’s better! Aw,” he added soothingly, reaching out to scratch the mutt’s ears, “I ain’t really sore atcha. Just gotta keep our cool, that’s all. Right?” Pluto nodded once more. “This place might  _ look _ sorta haunted and all that, but there ain’t a thing in the world to be afraid of, really. Right?” Pluto barked a decisive affirmative and Mickey laughed. “That’s the spirit, pal! Now, all we gotta do is just calm down and figure out the best way through the woods… sit still, bud, quit wiggling. Pluto, siddown. Hey, wouldja take it easy, already? Yer practically makin’ the ground...move….”  Mickey sat up straight. It wasn’t Pluto moving at all. It was the ground itself.

Alive.  The whole bank, it was alive - was moving.  Mickey scrambled back, giving a scream that was a little more shrill than he would’ve liked to admit, as the mossy mound of earth he’d been sitting on began to draw itself together.  It rose up in front of him now, dripping with slime, a solid mass of growth and muck that took on a vaguely humanoid shape as it stood there. It didn’t have a face, at least not a proper one, just a few deep, dark indentations in the general places where such features would usually be found.  Pluto thought about growling at it, but in the end decided it was a much better idea to press himself up behind Mickey’s legs instead. They stared at each other, the swamp thing and Mickey, and then then thing opened its maw and a gurgling, burbling sound came out. That was more than enough for Mickey.  He jerked back, tripping over Pluto in the process and performing some sort of a backflip which, really, was an athletic triumph of some sort. He didn’t take time to gloat over it, though; he scrambled to his feet and took off, hollering for Pluto to run. He didn’t need any more encouragement than that, and the two of them fled together, crashing through brush, over fallen logs, sloshing through puddles of brackish water, throwing back terrified glances every few yards, expecting to see the creature thundering after them in hot pursuit.  But he could see nothing, and eventually, chest burning, he had to stop and catch his breath, leaning against a tree to balance himself -  _ after _ checking carefully to make sure it hadn’t got a face.

“Gosh - that was - a close one - Pluto,” he gasped out.  Poor Pluto’s sides were heaving too, tongue hanging almost to the ground, but Mickey thought he seemed to agree. “If ya ask me, we should just get outta these woods,” he added after another pause, straightening up again. “Hm… awful dark in here. I’m all turned around now. Wish I knew which way we started from. Well, I guess we’ll try that way - huh, Pluto?”  When there was no response, he turned to look for the dog.

Pluto had stopped short, standing stock-still with his ears piqued. Mickey glanced in the direction he was aimed, but couldn’t see anything in the dark. “Hey, what’ssa matter, boy?”

Pluto stood silent a moment more, then with a sudden bark, he bolted off into the trees.

“Oh, what now?  Pluto! Come back!  Pluto!” He stood a moment before growling and taking off after him.  It didn’t seem quite fair - it wasn’t even really his dog, they’d only just met.  But Mickey couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the mutt behind, especially not with weird creatures lurking in the woods.  Gosh - if Pluto had gotten it into his head to go off chasing after one of those things, that might be a different story. Mickey had his doubts, that was for sure, especially as the noise of Pluto crashing through the brush seemed to be leading them back toward the swamp.  “Pluto! Ya big nut! Come back! Where are ya? Pluto!”

A bark from some distance up ahead alerted him to his companion’s position, but there was something else too.  Mickey stopped to try and hear better. He could hear the sound of water splashing, and something else - it was almost like a voice.  Like … someone calling for help. An awful chill went down his back, and Mickey forced his way through a massive fern, crunching over fallen branches until at last he pushed himself back out into the clearing along the banks of the swamp.  Sure enough, there was Pluto, running up and down the edge of the water, and out there in the water, he could see someone struggling. Pluto turned and barked anxiously back at Mickey as he approached, skidding to a halt in the mud.

It was a girl. She was floundering in the water, struggling to free herself as mossy wet tendrils caught at her dress and legs.  Mickey’s stomach clenched. It was that creature, or another like it, had to be - it had caught her somehow and pulled her into the swamp.  He called out to her. “M-Miss! Hey, miss-”

The girl was too busy to answer him just at first - she hadn’t even noticed Pluto barking.  But as he hesitated, just for a moment, the girl wrenched back with all her might, pulled so hard that the swamp thing’s hand stretched out so far from its body, he thought the weeds would break apart.  But they held together, and it yanked her back in. “Oh - no!” cried the girl. Mickey’s heart shot into his throat. His hat was off in an instant and his coat was following close behind. 

“Hang on!  I’ve gotcha!”  Now abandoning all thought of caution, Mickey splashed into the murky water, leaving Pluto leaping back and forth on the bank, barking in alarm.  The girl was struggling against the vines now, pulling with all her might to free her other arm, and just as Mickey reached her, they gave way. She fell back with a little shriek and the water closed over her head just as Mickey lunged for her.  For a sickening instant, his arms swept through empty water. He dropped to his knees; the water was up over his chin. Then his hand closed around her wrist. The next moment he was pulling her up, gasping, into his arms, and he felt hers go around his waist.  He turned for shore, wading, stumbling over his own feet, clutching the girl, until a minute later, they both tumbled onto the bank, coughing and gasping for breath. Pluto met them there, alternately circling around Mickey with concerned whines and growling back in the direction of the water.  But even dry land didn’t seem safe enough, and so Mickey scooted himself back another couple feet before he finally let the girl down on the grass. She was smeared with algae and weeds, and without thinking, he reached out to pluck some of them off of her round ears.

“That was close.  A-are you….” Mickey trailed off.  The girl lifted her head to look up at him and he just couldn’t talk, that was all, at least not for the first couple seconds when the jolt was the strongest.  This girl was the prettiest, the most beautiful - the most  _ gorgeous _ girl he’d ever seen in his life.  Or, well, he couldn’t see how he could’ve ever seen any girl who was prettier than this one, even if he did remember.  No, it was out of the question. Ten minutes ago, if Mickey’d tried to picture his idea of the perfect girl, he would’ve drawn a blank, just like everything else.  Now, the description could only ever belong to  _ this _ girl.  She had a little round face with a perfectly upturned nose, deep, soft eyes,  _ brown _ eyes, that looked up at him from beneath dark lashes, a rosebud mouth that fell slightly open over the most adorable little overbite.  Her ears were dark and velvety, and a few midnight-black curls clung to her damp cheeks. 

“...Are you all right?” Mickey finally finished, feeling dazed.  The girl nodded slowly.

“Y-yes, I … I think so.  Thanks to you.” Now they both stared at one another for a few long seconds.  Her lips parted, and Mickey glanced down at them, flushing for some reason he didn’t quite understand.  Both those lips and her cheeks were pale from the cold, though, and it was this realization, even more than the fact that Pluto had started barking excitedly that finally snapped Mickey out of whatever trance he’d fallen into.  She was shivering. He blinked.

“Oh, gosh!  Yer freezin’!  W-wait a second, I’ve got - here!”  He looked wildly around for the coat he’d thrown aside, blessing whatever presence, or absence, of mind which had prompted him to remove it.  He heaved himself up to his feet, dripping wet, and squelched over to snatch it up. Returning to plop down at her side once more, he swept it around her shoulders and tucked her into it the best he could.  Gosh, but she was tiny, even smaller than Mickey himself. She took hold of his coat with the daintiest hands he’d ever seen.

“Th-thank you,” she murmured, and Mickey was relieved to see a hint of color starting to return to her face.  They stared at each other for a long moment without quite realizing it, and then the girl’s eyes darted toward her feet - dainty, just like her hands, Mickey just knew it.

“That was terribly brave of you - jumping in the water to save me, the way you did,” added the girl.

“Oh, that’s - ya don’t gotta … a-anybody woulda done the same thing,” said Mickey.  The girl didn’t look convinced of that, but she was studying him closely.

“Do...do I... know you?” the girl asked him at last, very quietly.

Mickey’s mouth had already opened to answer ‘yes’ before he realized it would be a lie.  Or was it? He hesitated, but the idea of ever forgetting a girl like her was unfathomable.  He shook his head slowly.

“No, I … I don’t think so.  That is, I can’t really say.”  He paused again. The desire to tell someone, anyone, about his strange predicament was terribly strong, but if he just blurted it all out, she would probably think he was escaped from some sort of asylum.  Besides, he felt strangely guilty about it all, like if he just applied himself more, he could’ve recalled his life and part of someone else’s too. But she looked so strangely disappointed that he didn’t know what to say next, so he just sat there dumbly for a number of seconds.

“Is that your dog?” asked the girl.  Mickey perked up.

“Oh!  Yeah! Er, well, kinda.  He ain’t mine, exactly, only - well, I think mebbe he’s lost, but we’ve been keepin’ each other company.  Haven’t we, boy?” He reeled the pup in and scratched his ears. “His name’s Pluto! He’s awful friendly too.  Go on, you can pet him, he won’t bitecha.”

“Oh!  Hello, Pluto.”  The girl reached out her hand and Pluto ignored it, lunging instead all the way forward to lash his tongue across her pink cheek.  Mickey blanched, yanking him back.

“Pluto!  Don’t be rude!”  Pluto sucked his tongue back in and looked sheepish, but the girl was giggling musically.  Mickey’s heart quickened at the sound.

“Isn’t he sweet?  Aw, you poor thing - lost in the woods, how awful!”  The girl stroked Pluto’s head, sighing. “...I’m sort of lost, too, I guess.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”  The girl picked up her skirts and started wringing water out of them.  Mickey tried not to stare at her legs. “In fact...w-well….” She hesitated, then sucked in a breath and spoke all in a rush.  “The truth is, I’m not just lost, I - I can’t remember how I got here, or - or much of anything else, either. I don’t know what happened, but one minute I was just here and - and - oh, you probably think I’m crazy.”  She regarded him unhappily, noting how he was staring. His mouth had dropped open and everything. Mickey snapped it shut.

“No!  I mean - me too!  I can’t remember hardly anything either!”

Now the girl looked so startled that Mickey regretted his honesty for a second, because if that look meant she was mentally filing him away as a dangerous lunatic, telling wild stories,  was plotting her immediate escape from his clutches -

“You mean it?  You can’t remember ...anything?”

“Oh, well, I ken remember SOME things.  My name’s Mickey. An’ I’m … er … well, that is t’say … erm… that’s...that’s about it.”

“Mickey…” breathed the girl, and Mickey shuddered in spite of himself.  “You mean - you  _ really _ can’t remember anything besides your name?” said the girl.  “Anything about where you came from or how you got here or anything?”

Mickey shook his head.  “Nothin’. It feels like it’s all in there somewhere, but I can’t get at it, that’s all.”

The girl rose onto her knees, now looking more excited by the second.  “Yes! That’s it exactly! It’s all so strange - I keep thinking it’s a dream and that I’ll wake up any second, but it has to be real, doesn’t it, if you’re here too?”

“Yeah!”  He stared at her, feeling dazed.  He should’ve been horrified, but he just couldn’t force himself to do that, not now.  The girl was sitting up on her knees now, looking at him with the brightest eyes he’d ever seen and Mickey felt a flush of excitement go through him.  He took her by the shoulders. “I can’t believe it! This is - this is just amazing! I mean, not amazin’, it’s AWFUL.” He fought to adjust his facial expression into something appropriate, which was difficult.  Luckily, the girl didn’t look very offended, so Mickey gave it up and laughed lightly. “Gosh, I thought I was just crazy or - or I got clocked in the head or somethin’ like that, but there really IS somethin’ nutty goin’ on around this place, ain’t it?”  She beamed.

“Or else we’re both crazy - but it’s not so lonesome that way, is it?”

Mickey laughed.  “Yeah - that’s right!”  He gazed at her with unmasked admiration for a long moment until something else important occurred to him.  “Say...what’s your name?”

“Minnie,” said the girl, and then sneezed.  It was the cutest sneeze he had ever seen. Mickey’s nose twitched.  The girl sniffed. “...I’m sorry. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, well - I thought I ought to try and find my way out of here, but then I got lost and the next thing I knew, I stumbled into the swamp and there was that - ohhh, that horrible monster!  I was never so scared in my life! At least … I don’t think I was.”

“Me too,” Mickey admitted. “I guess … whatever’s goin’ on, we’re both in kinda the same fix, huh?”

“Uh huh,” breathed the girl - whose name was Minnie - and Mickey felt like she had a real way with words. Minnie. Gosh, it suited her. She looked just like a Minnie ought to look. He felt as if - as if he’d known her all his life.

She sneezed again.  Mickey shook himself awake, as if from a dream.  Geez, he really was a cad. “We gotta get you warm - an’ dry.  C’mon - I’m sure we can get enough sticks to build a fire or somethin’ like that.  Don’t worry. We might as well be lost t’gether as alone, huh?” He got to his feet and held his hands out to her with a smile.  Minnie looked up at him, eyes growing wide.

“Oh - all right!”  She smiled up at him and Mickey felt a great deal better already, even moreso when she put her little hands in his and let him pull her to her feet.  Standing, she was just a little shorter than he was, and Mickey rather liked that, being a fellow of modest height and all. Huh. He shook his head faintly.  Minnie looked concerned. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, I … I just felt like … well, like I was about to remember somethin’, I guess.  But I guess I was imaginin’ things. Anyhow, let’s see about that fire, huh? Gotta be enough sticks we can gather up…”

“Oh!  Yes, let’s!”  She started to look around,  but Mickey hesitated. 

“Er … maybe we could build it a little farther away from the swamp?” he suggested.  “That swamp thing might still be around, after all.” He looked back over her shoulder significantly.  Minnie looked too. There was no sign of the creature now - probably it had slunk back off somewhere like the first one had.  He thought he wouldn’t mention that part to Minnie, that there might be more than one of them.

“I forgot about that.  You don’t think he’d bother us anymore, do you?  I was awfully frightened at the time, but I feel a little sorry for it now.”

“Sorry for it ?” Mickey stared at her.

“Well, yes.  That is - I suppose it did cause a lot of trouble, but perhaps it didn’t mean any harm after all.  Maybe it was just curious.”

“It almost drowned you,” Mickey pointed out, feeling this was extremely important.  Minnie poked at the grass with her toe.

“Oh, well, yes, but … you know, maybe it didn’t know that would be bad.  It’s just a swamp creature, after all - how would it know about things like air and everything?”

Mickey had no idea how to respond to that.  Maybe he wasn’t the craziest one after all - and yet, when Minnie turned those brown eyes back up to his, full of hopeful sympathy on behalf of that pile of moss and slime, he couldn’t help liking her for it.

“Er, well… I suppose so,” he offered gruffly.  “Anyhow, I’m sure it wouldn’t like a big fire in its swamp anyways, so let’s give it some space, huh?  C’mon, Pluto!” 

He led the way back the way he thought they had come through the trees before, gathering up sticks as he went.  Minnie helped him, even though he insisted on carrying the bigger ones himself. She was an awful good sport, he could tell that immediately.  Even soaked to the bone, shivering and sniffling and probably frozen half to death, she was still in good spirits, chatting to him and Pluto about her journey through the woods so far, which had been mercifully uneventful until her encounter with the swamp creature.  By the time they found another little clearing that was suitable for building a fire in, she was cheerfully insisting she wasn’t very cold at all, even though Mickey could see her teeth chattering.

“Here’s a good spot,” he announced at last, dumping his pile of twigs and sticks in a randomly-appointed spot.  It was pretty dry at least. He crouched, shuddering as the motion sent a shivery rivulet of water down the middle of his back, and began constructing a little circle of sticks.  “We’ll have a fire goin’ in no time. Sure wish I weren’t soakin’ wet already, though.”

“Are you sure you don’t want your coat back?” Minnie asked him for what must’ve been the third or fourth time already.  He shook his head firmly.

“Naw, I ain’t even cold,” he said, and sneezed immediately.  By now, Mickey had a good-sized mound of sticks built up and so he took a couple likely-looking ones and set them up to start rubbing them together.  “I saw this in a book one time. I think.” He furrowed his brow, since he couldn’t quite remember this detail, either. Minnie squatted next to him and tucked herself into his coat, shivering patiently while she waited.  Pluto came nosing around now too, having thoroughly investigated the entire clearing by now, and determined it was free of both bats and swamp creatures. Mickey nudged him gently aside with an elbow. “Not now, boy, I’m trying to get a fire goin’,”  

At his, Pluto’s ears picked up and he gave an excited bark right in Mickey’s ear.  He winced. “Shh! Take it easy! Gimme some room, now, okay? I toldja, I’m tryin’ to start a fire!  A fire!”

A fire!  Pluto was delighted.  He barked, jumped back, waggled his tail furiously, and then, drawing in a deep breath, he let out a roar unlike any sound Mickey’d heard him make so far.  There was a flash, like someone striking flint and steel, and the next thing Mickey knew, the sticks were alight. He fell back with a cry, and felt Minnie grab his arm.  And Pluto was still standing there, tail wagging, tongue dangling cheerfully, as a faint wisp of smoke trailed up from his open mouth. Mickey swallowed hard.

“Did … you see that?” he asked Minnie quietly, without taking his eyes off the dog.

“Yes.”  Her fingers clutched his sleeve a little tighter.  There was a pause. “I’ve never had a dog before, I don’t think,” she said, clearly struggling to maintain a non-judgmental tone.  “Is that … typical?”

“Um … I dunno.  I guess mebbe I forgot about that too, but … I don’t think it is.”  By now, Pluto was tilting his head, curious and increasingly concerned as to why his efforts weren’t being met with the reaction he’d expected.  He put his head down and looked up at Mickey with such a disappointed expression that he couldn’t help himself. He reached out and laid his hand on Pluto’s head.  “Er … good boy, Pluto.”

The effect was immediate.  Pluto perked up again and his tail began to wag.  He managed to work his snout in between Mickey’s arm and his side, twisting himself into an absurd angle in order to pant a faintly smoky dog breath up into Mickey’s face.  Mickey sighed. It was no use. He wrapped his arms around Pluto’s neck. “Aww, ya big mutt. I dunno what’s goin’ on around here, or whoever heard of a fire-breathin’ dog, but ya ARE a good boy, ain’tcha?”  Pluto barked happily, because yes, he was a very good boy in his own estimation, and now that he’d convinced Mickey, he burrowed all the way across his lap to grin up at Minnie too. Luckily for Pluto, if there was a person alive who was as soft a touch as Mickey, it was her.  Besides, she’d already removed her own little boots and stretched out her cold feet to warm them by the fire, now crackling merrily away. She stroked his ears.

“He really has been an awfully nice dog,” she admitted.  “After all, he helped lead you to me, didn’t he? And I’m sure his barking helped to scare those creatures away and … well, just because he’s a little unusual doesn’t mean he can’t be friendly.”

Mickey wasn’t sure ‘a little unusual’ went quite far enough, but otherwise he couldn’t disagree.  So they stretched out and let the fire do its work, with Pluto nestled happily between them.

 

~~~

 

The night was very still.  It was quiet now, and the storm had long since passed.  Captain Pete didn’t mind the quiet. There were few people he would’ve wanted to talk to anyway, especially when you considered the sorts of folks you usually would’ve found lurking around the Castle.  But he had the courtyard to himself, could look out over the valley at his leisure. Some view. And to think, in just a little while … But he thought he heard a bell ring from somewhere inside, so the Captain turned and went up the steps.  Inside the castle, everything was still. There were no servants, no guests - nobody at all but the Captain and his master. He made his way into the throne room now, assuming that’s where the master would be. A few torches were lit along the walls, but it was darker and more silent when he arrived here than even the empty courtyard.  At first, he thought he’d been mistaken about the bell, was alone, until the voice of his employer startled him. “You followed my orders?”

The Captain bowed low, more as a reflexive afterthought than anything else.  “To th’ letter, Your Excellency! I scattered ‘em out all th’way to the borders!  Hahaha, what I wouldn’t give t’ see their little faces now.” He bowed low, although one eye opened after a beat.  “...Although I still think it woulda been better ta just oblitify the little runt - and his pals, too. If you just let me -”

“No!”  A black-gloved hand shot out from the shadows covering the throne.  “How many times must I repeat myself? No harm must come to him, not from me or from you.  He must be  _ alive  _ when the full moon rises, do you understand?  After that….” The voice lapsed into silence, but the Captain could hear low chuckling after a moment.  “...After that, it won’t matter anymore.”


	2. The Mirror

 

_ Weak.  I feel so weak… so tired.  And that voice … I keep hearing it in my mind, over and over again…. _

_       Why keep fighting it…?   _

_                Aren’t you tired of this struggling?   _

_ Look at what you’ve become.   _

_       It’s already over, you can see that.  Let go…. _

 

Mickey took in a breath and opened his eyes.  Almost at once, he realized something wasn’t quite right, and as he lifted his head, he realized what it was.  He was sitting in the woods; he remembered making a fire, and Pluto setting it alight; he remembered coming to sit huddled up close to it beside Minnie to get warmed up, chatting with her about this and that - nonsense, more or less, and then things became sort of fuzzy in his memory.  Minnie. Mickey sat up straight, flushing. Somehow or other, he’d fallen asleep, that much was plain, but what he couldn’t understand quite as well was how he’d contrived to get himself into the position he now awoke in - with his head nestled on Minnie’s lap. She was regarding him now with those brown eyes of hers, and he thought there was a faint touch of amusement hovering at the corner of her mouth.  

“Oh, you’re awake,” she remarked, pleasantly stating the obvious.  Mickey reached up to rub his cheek.

“Uh ...yeah,” he offered stupidly.  Minnie waited a moment, but when he had no further observations, she coughed delicately into her fist.

“...Well, I - I’m sorry I didn’t wake you, but you just looked so tired, you know.  When you fell asleep, I didn’t have the heart to disturb you - and then I thought it would be more comfortable if … well, you know.”  Her cheeks turned a pleasing pink. Mickey stared at her. Good night. She was so adorable that it honestly made him more suspicious than anything else that this whole thing was some sort of a weird dream.  

“Thanks,” he mumbled.  It didn’t feel quite manly, conking out like a baby then snoring away on a beautiful girl’s lap.  And what a waste, honestly, if you were going to be so close to her - but Mickey cut off that line of thinking before it could carry him anywhere too dangerous.  Pluto had taken note of his waking up too, and was now nosing around him sociably. Mickey gave him a scratch under the chin. “Er, how long was I out for?”

“Only an hour or two.  It’s getting lighter now, I think.  Maybe it’s getting close to morning?  Or else the sky is just clearing up. The light is so strange here; it’s hard to know even what time it is.”  As she bent to brush a stray leaf from her dress, Mickey caught a glimpse of something that glittered in the firelight, and had to search a moment before he found where the glint was coming from.  Right there - a necklace Minnie was wearing. He hadn’t noticed it before, and studied it now as it caught the light and sent little sparkling reflections in all directions. Pretty little thing - a red gemstone on a gold chain.  There was a faint symbol suspended in the middle of the stone, just faintly visible. He didn’t recognize it, but it was sort of attractive. It suited her, he thought absently. Just the sort of bauble a girl like Minnie ought to have.  He didn’t realize she had straightened up and was looking back at him until their eyes met abruptly, and then he glanced away, embarrassed.

“Oh!  I was just … y-yer necklace.”

Minnie’s hand flew up and closed around it.  “...My necklace?” she repeated. Was she blushing?  Maybe it was a trick of the light.

“I just - it’s sorta pretty, that’s all.  Y’know - kinna different.”

“Oh, well...thank you.”  Minnie seemed to relax, and lowered her hand again.  “It’s...I can’t really remember how I got it. I guess I’ve forgotten that too.”  She frowned a little. “But I feel like it’s important...somehow.” For just a moment, her face looked sort of pinched, almost like she was about to cry.  But then she sighed and gave a helpless little shrug. “It’s so strange, feeling like … like everything’s right on the tip of my tongue, but then it’s just not there.”

“Yeah...I know whatcha mean,” Mickey murmured.  He was glad she hadn’t cried after all. “Guess we ain’t gonna get anywhere if I just go on nappin’ everywhere though, so … are ya mostly dry yet?”  He checked his own clothes while Minnie patted the hem of her skirt.

“Yes, I think so.”  She shot a look at him with a sudden twinkle.  “...Unless you drooled on me, that is.”

“What?!  I don’t drool!” Mickey denied at once, before he saw that little grin, the wrinkle to her nose.  Something sort of hiccuped in his chest and he looked quickly away. “...I don’t drool,” he repeated anyway, in a much lower tone, just to be safe.  Minnie’s nose wrinkled again, but she only smiled.

“I suppose we ought to get moving again, hadn’t we?  Unless you wanted to set up a proper camp here in the woods for a while.”

Mickey hopped to his feet, after looking around a moment for his hat, which had gone missing again.  He had the faint suspicion Minnie was still teasing him, but he chose to ignore it for now. “No, best to keep movin’, I think, especially with those swamp things still hangin’ around.  Besides, we really oughta look for somebody to help us figure out what’s going on - you know, a town or something like that. I dunno how we got out here, but we did, so there’s gotta be some answers around here someplace.”  He offered a hand to Minnie again and she took it, hopping up to join him.

“I’m sure you’re right.  And don’t forget Pluto too - maybe his master lives somewhere around here.”

“Hey yeah, that’s right!”  He whistled, only to find that Pluto was already beside him, winding around his legs, clearly ready to go at a moment’s notice.  “How ‘bout it, Pluto? Do you live close by, huh? Do ya? Where’s yer house, boy?” Pluto wagged his tail enthusiastically enough, but all he did in response was bark twice and grin a doggy grin up at Mickey’s face and nothing else.  Mickey shrugged. “Well...anyhow.” He was still holding Minnie’s hand, and when he realized it, Mickey rather reluctantly let go. It seemed a little bit fresh, after all, considering how they’d only just met, even if Minnie didn’t seem to mind too much.  But then, perhaps she was just being polite. Mickey didn’t assess how much second-guessing he was doing when it came to Minnie versus anything else, but if he had, it might’ve made him wonder.

 After seeing that their fire was put out, the threesome set off through the woods, choosing a direction that seemed promising.  Mickey half-expected the forest to go on for miles and miles, but to his surprise, before a half-hour had gone by, the trees started to get a little bit thinner, farther apart, and finally a distinct clearing emerged, stretching much longer than it was wide.  They walked into it and began to follow it on. 

The sky was definitely lighter now.  Instead of the deep coral tone from before the storm, there was a distinct yellow-green light to it now, although Mickey still couldn’t be certain whether the shining orb that winked in and out of few behind the lavender-colored clouds was the sun or an unusually bright moon.  For that matter he wasn’t quite sure even now whether it was day or night; the light was so ambiguous, it could’ve been either one, but he didn’t feel sleepy, so that would have to do. The clearing was much wider now, to the point where the forest really became patches of trees here and there with a sort of grassy meadow between them.  There were flowers growing here, drinking in the more generous light, and the little squat mushrooms they’d seen through the forest were gradually replaced with broad-capped toadstools in a smattering of bright colors. Some of the flowers had a strange glow when you looked at them from a distance, or if you glanced at them from just the right angle, but it seemed to fade when you got up close.  It was very curious, and Mickey felt Minnie pause for a second or two several times just looking at them before she would hurry to catch up before he stopped too.

There were creatures about as well, besides just the bats and the handful of blue-green frogs he’d seen closer to the swamp.  More than once, Mickey caught sight of a furry little something-or-other scurrying into the brush, and a few glowing eyes blinked out at them from the shadows.  There were more birds too, although they weren’t the fat little songbirds you might expect to find. They were mostly big, silent things with wide black eyes that followed you even as they perched up in the trees, perfectly still.  They had little tufts on their heads, their feathers as deep and midnight-dark as velvet. Minnie shivered when she saw them.

“It feels like they might swoop down and carry you off at any second,” she murmured.  Mickey didn’t mind them, thought they were kind of neat - but when Minnie drifted closer to him and her hand sort of tucked itself around his elbow, he drew it in securely without a word and they walked on that way together.

“Mickey?” 

He’d been thinking of nothing in particular, except that he was getting hungry. He glanced Minnie’s way.  “Yeah?”

“You still can’t remember any more about how you got here or anything?”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. I been thinkin’ about it, y’know - trying to remember things, but I just can’t, I guess. It’s all just fuzz. Sometimes it feels like I’m about into something, but it’s like … like a dream, I guess. Ain’t even clear enough to try an’ describe it. What about you?”

“Sort of the same, I suppose, only ….” She trailed off, but looked troubled. Mickey nudged her gently.

“What? What is it?”

“It’s just - I keep having these … feelings.”

“Feelings?” Mickey exchanged a look with Pluto; it sounded like a topic where he was rapidly going to find himself out of his depth.

“Yes. It’s almost like…” she squinted, searching for the words. “Like I still remember  _ how  _ I should feel about things - some things - I just can’t remember  _ why _ .”

“Huh.” Mickey scratched his head. “Well, I guess that’s good, though, ain’t it? If ya know things, even without knowin’  _ why _ you know ‘me, that means the rest of your memory’s gotta be in there someplace, right?”

“I guess so,” Minnie agreed, but her brow was still furrowed. It was slim comfort, Mickey knew, when it was frustrating,  _ frightening _ , not knowing who you were or what you might’ve lost. They walked on a bit before he nudged her again, bending to catch her eye, try to make her smile.

“Say, yet not gettin’ any alarm bells about  _ me _ , are ya? Some funny-lookin’ creep with big ears, huh?”

His gambit was obviously effective as a distraction. Minnie’s eyes got wide. “I-I ….”

He watched her stammer for a second, and was starting to feel very interested in her answer, when Pluto gave an excited bark, closing the subject altogether for now. They looked up to find themselves on the crest of a sloping hill, and just visible over the rise, they could make out a steeply-templed rooftop.

“Oh, it’s a house!” Minnie exclaimed, and indeed it was, a tall, crooked structure. Upon closer inspection, it had peeling paint and gaps in its purple roof tiles like missing teeth. The windows were dark and dingy, impossible to see through. Minnie’s face fell a little. “But - it looks sort of neglected. You don’t suppose it’s abandoned, do you?”

“Can’t be. Got smoke comin’ from the chimney.” Mickey tilted his chin up to indicate it. Minnie made a dissatisfied sound of acknowledgement. Mickey didn’t blame her. It wasn’t the most promising prospect, that was for sure, but beggars, after all, can’t be choosers.

“Well...mebbe whoever lives there can tell us where we are, at least. Worth a try, ain’t it?”

“I suppose it’s better than wandering around,” Minnie agreed, so the three of them set off toward the house.  Pluto was trotting along beside them. He didn’t seem to show any signs of recognition, merely the same canine interest he’d shown in each new encounter so far, and Mickey found himself feeling a little glad. Somebody must’ve been missing him somewhere, but Mickey was also getting awful used to having him around. He’d be sorry to say goodbye when the time came.

“It’s a little strange-looking,” Minnie observed as they reached the house at last, ascending the two or three creaking steps to the front porch. As usual, Mickey felt she was understating the matter. It was a creepy-looking old place, that’s what it was, and looked as though half of it was about to cave in and stump off to one side, being held in place mostly by the bits which were trying at once to cave in and slump off in the opposite direction, thereby meeting in the middle and going nowhere. 

He was feeling a little apprehensive himself; there was no way of knowing what sort of person might open the door.  But they really didn’t have much choice, so before he could lose his nerve, he sucked in a breath, lifted his hand and knocked.  He could hear the sound echo faintly inside, and then it was quiet. They waited, looked at one another.

“Maybe nobody’s home,” said Minnie, not half sure whether this wouldn’t be for the best.  Mickey knocked again.

“Sure don’t seem too lively,” he acknowledged, leaning back to try and squint through one of the dingy windows.  He was on the verge of suggesting they give up, or at least try around the back, when there was a sudden thump and a rattle, and then the unmistakable sound of someone unlatching the door from the inside.  Mickey snapped to attention with Minnie close beside him as it swung open.

“Yes?”  A duck stood in the doorway, an older-looking fellow with graying feathers that were in need of a trim.  He was balding on the top, but the rest of his head was a wild mop that was currently pointed in at least three different directions.  There was a faint accent to his speech, but Mickey couldn’t place where it might’ve been from. There was also a slightly unfocused look in his eyes, in that he seemed to be looking rather around Mickey than straight at him, but perhaps it was just a trick of the light or something.

“Er...excuse us, sir - we don’t mean to bother ya any, but we’re strangers around here, and -”

“Strangers?  Wonderful! I’d rather talk to strangers than half the people I ever met anyway. I was afraid you were selling encyclopedias, which I got already.”  He laughed at this, threw the door open further. “My name is Von Drake! Professor Ludwig Von Drake!” The duck stuck out his hand. It didn’t come anywhere close to Mickey’s chest, but he shifted himself to the side out of a sense of obligation and shook the fellow’s hand.

“Er...pleased to meet ya.  I’m Mickey an’ this is Minnie.  See, the trouble is, we got sort of turned around in the woods back there, and -”

“Mickey, eh, I knew a fella named Mickey once, years ago that was, back when I was in school.  Or was it while I was in school? No, I was graduated by then, long-since, actually, it was my cousin, that’s right.  Or was it my nephew?” The mice exchanged a glance, and Mickey at least felt confident that Minnie shared his private conviction that the old duck was absolutely nuts, as crazy as a loon.  At least he finally stopped muttering to himself, though, even slapped a hand on his head with a laugh. “Oh, goodness, where was I? You’ll have to excuse the professor - my brains is all scattered on account of the fact that I lost my marbles this morning.”

“You...lost your marbles?” Minnie squeaked out after a painful silence.

“Correct!  Spilled them all over th’ place and I slipped - WHOOP!  And now they’re all over my laboratory and all I’ve got to left to show for it is one big bump on the noggin.  And that’s not the worst of it, neither.”

“It’s not?”

“No!  The worst of it is that I’ve lost my glasses again.”  He reached up and patted the top of his head, just to be sure, and then both pockets, but it was all to no avail.  He shrugged his shoulders. “Everything’s just a blur to me now.”

“Gosh, ken ya imagine,” Mickey muttered.  Minnie bit her lip, and he felt her elbow dig into his side a bit.  Fortunately, the professor did not notice.

“What were we talking about again?  Oh, the woods! I’ve been lost in there myself.     Personally, I don’t recommend it, but everybody gotta pursue their own hobbies, I suppose.”  He jammed a thumb over his shoulder. “That’s why I built this lab, you know, I had a lotta questions, so who better to answer them than me, the Professor?”

“We have a lot of questions too, Professor Von Drake,” Minnie interrupted smoothly, sensing an opportunity.  The venture was successful, in that the professor stopped, reaching up to adjust his glasses, which of course were not there.

“Really?  Scientific questions?”

“Er...in a manner of speaking.”  Minnie glanced to Mickey, who picked up the hint and continued.

“...See, the truth is, Minnie and me both seem to have lost our memories.”

This did get Von Drake’s attention.  “Lost your memories? You mean to say - an amnesia?  You can’t remember names and dates and faces, important events in your life?”  He watched the two of them shake their heads in unison, scratching his chin. “That’s most extraordinary!  Oh, common enough in the aged, sometimes in the unusually intelligent, too - not enough room in there, you know, it’s a problem of working memory, I suffer from it myself, but you!  Two healthy young people! Probably a sign of head injury.”

Mickey’s hand flew up to probe for bumps, but he already knew there was nothing there, and when he glanced at Minnie but she just shrugged, shaking her head.  “Well, don’t seem to be hurt or anything, an’ I feel fine, myself - just a little bit weak, I guess - but nothin’ else.”

“Extraordinary!” repeated the professor.  “Well, this calls for, it -” He produced a hanky from the pocket of his waistcoat and reached up, groping again for the glasses which were not there.  “It calls for an investigation is what it does, it - oh.” He pointed at his spectacle -less face and stuffed the hanky back in his pocket again with a good-natured laugh.  “Well, what are you waiting for? Come in - come in! We’ll have a cup of tea and you can tell me all about it.”

“Oh, well… I guess a cup of tea sounds nice.  A-an’ then you’ll answer some questions for us, too?”

“Of course, certainly!  If there’s one thing a professor likes, it’s answering stupid questions!”  He ushered them into the house, and shut the door behind them.

The inside of the house was just as strange as the outside, but in a different kind of way.  While the exterior had seemed to be in disrepair, the inside was all sturdy and cozy enough. It was cluttered, though, every surface covered in books, bottles, beakers, papers, paperweights, gizmos, gadgets, doodads and every here and there, a knickknack.  The professor was obviously some sort of a collector, although Mickey thought privately that this type of collection might be most succinctly described as ‘junk’.

“Right in here!  I was just about to have tea myself, you know, kettle’s ready and everything.”  He led them to a big squat loveseat that was oozing a little of its stuffings, but otherwise looked inviting enough, apart from a spherical object resting in the middle,  with a great number of wires sticking out of it. “Sit down, sit - oh, where did that come from?” He picked up the round thing, frowned at it, then tossed it over his shoulder with a shrug.  “Looks like junk to me - anyway, sit down! I’ll be right back with the tea and we can have a talk. Er, sit, Fido.” He pointed downwards so Pluto would get the idea. He did sit, somewhat uncertainly, and the old duck scampered off.  Mickey tucked his hands in between his knees, almost afraid of accidentally brushing up against something - was the liquid in those bottles over there bubbling? The room altogether seemed to be half parlor or study and half laboratory.  There were quite a lot of bookshelves, several tables with a lot of bottles and tools on them, and all around the place, common objects were mingled in together with the sorts of equipment and supplies you’d expect to see in a more academic setting.  Or somebody’s secret lair. Mickey noted one table in the corner which seemed to have something awfully large and lumpy on it, all covered by a sheet. He decided at once he didn’t want to know what was underneath.

“He seems like a friendly old gentleman,” said Minnie, absently flicking dust off the arm of the loveseat.

“Prob’ly some sorta mad scientist,” Mickey returned, unable to help speaking his immediate thought.

“Oh, do you think he’s mad? I don’t think so, not - not  _ really _ mad, just … eccentric.  But he did say this was a lab, didn’t he? So I guess he must really be a scientist of some kind.”

A rattling from the hallway heralded the professor’s return, and he came in at an alarmingly high speed with an overloaded tray, which was the source of the rattle. He unceremoniously cleared a spot on the low table by the loveseat to make room, and placed the tray down with a racket, mismatched teacups clattering in their mismatched saucers. There was a plate piled with a generous number of shortbread biscuits too, which made Mickey remember how hungry he was, so when the professor offered it forth, he helped himself to three or four with little reservation.

“Now, then. You say you’ve both lost your memories?” Von Drake set out three cups and set about filling them, offering one to each of his guests.

“Yessir,” said Mickey through a mouthful of biscuit.  “Both of us - that is, Minnie and me, we just sort of woke up in the woods.” He gave as brief a summary of things as he could manage while Von Drake passed the cream and sugar around.

“Extraordinary,” the scientist murmured, stirring his cup thoughtfully.

Mickey poured cream into his tea. As he did, it occurred to him that Pluto ought to have some too, so he surreptitiously tipped a bit of cream and a couple of sugar cubes into his saucer and, when the professor was looking elsewhere, distracted by and rubbing at a drop of tea he’d just splashed onto himself, he bent to set it down for Pluto. In the process, he almost bumped his head right into Minnie’s, and when he reared back in surprise, befuddled as to what her head was doing in the way to start with, she followed him with startled eyes. Then she gave him a coy little smile and slipped the biscuit she’d purloined onto the saucer in his hand. They stared at each other a moment until Mickey set it all down on the floor between his feet, stroking Pluto’s back when he slid soundlessly in to claim it. Minnie winked at him, and Mickey’s heart thumped.  _ Geez _ . He just - he really  _ liked _ her.

“It seems to me there are three possible explanations,” Von Drake announced as Mickey sat quickly upright again.

“O-oh yeah?”

“And what’re they?” asked Minnie. Von Drake settled back into the recesses of his own chair and counted off on his fingers.

“One, you’re both crazy. It’s entirely possible and probably the simplest explanation.”

Mickey swallowed back the urge to make any sort of comment about it taking one to know one, or something of that kind, and instead asked, a bit stiffly, “What’s number two?”

“Two, you’ve both met with an unfortunate incident of some kind and have lost your memories due to trauma. Do you feel traumatized?”

The mice looked at each other.

“Not exactly,” said Minnie.

“Not  _ yet, _ ” said Mickey, and held his expression steady when he felt the heel of her boot dig into his foot.  “What’s th’ third one, professor?”

“Magic,” pronounced Von Drake, and took a long sip of tea.

Mickey blinked.  “...Did you say magic?”

“Of course!  When all practical, scientific explanations have been exhausted, and assuming you aren’t crazy, the next best explanation is a phenomenon of magical origins.  Magic can be strange and mysterious, after all - I have many magical objects in the house myself, and a few of them are real lulus.”

Nutty as a loon.  He’d known it from the beginning.  Mickey shot a hard stare at Minnie as if to warn her he’d tried to tell her so.  She just squinted back at him threateningly because the professor was a sweet old man and don’t you  _ dare _ hurt his feelings.  Mickey wrinkled his nose, but picked up a biscuit and dunked it a few times before stuffing it in his mouth.

“Well...tha’s...turrbly interesting, p’rfessor,” he mumbled.  “But I’m afraid it doesn’t get us too far. I don’t suppose there’s any other way you might be able to figure out what’s happened to us?”

“I can’t, but I do have something that can.”

“Oh yeah?  An’ what’s that?” asked Mickey, swirling the contents of his teacup dully.

“Simple!”  Von Drake took another sip.  “It’s a mirror that can answer any question.”

Mickey had taken a drink too, but he almost sprayed it back out.  “It’s  _ what?! _ ” he almost choked, dribbling tea so that he had to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand.  Minnie passed him a napkin. The professor nodded placidly, taking a biscuit.

“Just what I said - a magic mirror that can answer any question.”

“But that’s impossible!”

“Oh, not impossible.  Highly improbable, naturally, but impossible, that’s another thing altogether.”

“Oh, professor, how  _ wonderful! _ ”  Minnie set her cup aside altogether, clasping her hands.  “Why, that could solve everything! Is it one of your inventions?”

“One of my inventions?”  The professor laughed. “Oh, that’s a good guess, but it’s wrong.  I didn’t invent the mirror. I’ve had it in my possession for a lotta years now - that’s a funny story, but - well, another time - but I didn’t invent it.  It’s  _ magic _ , you know, one doesn’t just go around inventing magical objects, that’s not the way it works.  Inventions, sure, but not magic, dat comes from the _ in _ side.”

Mickey was feeling more doubtful by the second.  “Er...how does it work? The mirror, I mean?”

“That part’s simple!  You talk into it.”

“Talk into it.”

“Right!  Ask it whatever you’re wanting to know.  But!” He held up a warning finger. “...The mirror will only answer you  _ one _ question.”  He rubbed his chin.  “I suppose between the two of you that’s two questions - that comes out to one question apiece, you know.”

“Only one question?”  Minnie fingered her necklace.  “But how will we know what to ask?”

“Depends on what answer you wanna get!”  Ludwig laughed, and then, more seriously, he noted, “If I could ask it a question right now, I’d ask where my glasses got to, but if I had ‘em on my face it’d be a silly question to ask, you see, it all just depends.  I used up my question a long time ago, you can imagine. It’s another kind of a funny story actually, but - oh! Listen to me, there I go again.” He shook a finger, as if scolding himself, before getting to his feet. “Well - I suppose you’d like to ask it a thing or two?”

“Well, yeah, that’d be - that’d be a big help.”  Mickey set his cup down too and he and Minnie got up.  Pluto had just settled down for a bit of a rest, and though he cracked one eye open, he didn’t seem to feel obligated to follow them.  “It really is awful kind of ya, professor,” he added, feeling a little bit guilty for calling the old duck a loon and a nut, even if it was in his own head.

“Don’t mention it!”  Von Drake gestured for them to follow along and turned to head down the corridor before pausing.  “...Well, it doesn’t hurt to mention it a  _ little _ .”

He led them to the end of the hall and up a winding staircase to a little tower room that apparently served as storage for a variety of interesting and probably useless objects.  Mickey had a feeling like there were probably a lot of places in the professor’s home that housed such items. They followed the professor to the far wall, and there hung the mirror, a big oval mirror in a tarnished frame.  From a little distance, it looked like any other mirror, but as they got close to it, the surface seemed to grow hazy, as if there was a fog swirling slowly behind the glass. It also darkened to a greenish color, so that you had to squint to make out your own features.

“This is it!” announced the professor.  “Frankly, it’s nice to see the old thing get some use once in a while.  Whatever kind of fool decided it made sense to make a mirror that could only answer one question doesn’t seem too bright to me, but you don’t just go throwing away magic mirrors, so here it is.  Oh! Well, I suppose you’ll be wanting to ask it whatever it was you wanted to ask it. I’ll give you some time to think - I can’t stand around all day talking to magic mirrors.” He turned to leave them to it.

“Thank you again, professor,” called Minnie after him.  He waved a hand.

“You’re welcome!  Enjoy! And remember - the mirror can only answer one question!”  They heard him tromp back down the stairs again, and the tower room fell silent.

“One question?”  Mickey glanced at Minnie.  She put a hand on his arm, and it was sort of a relief that she looked as nervous as he felt.

“Go ahead,” she murmured.  Mickey swallowed, turning to focus on the swirling glass.

“Er...Mirror!” he said loudly, unsure if he needed to get its attention first.  The glass gave a little flicker, and he took this to mean it was listening. “Um… Why...why can’t we - why have we lost our memories?”

Minnie’s hand squeezed him in approval.  He shot her a faint smile, but he still felt pretty nervous.  There was no possible way this could work. Could it?

The fog behind the glass began to swirl faster than it had before, and the sickly green churned itself into a more yellowish hue.  Mickey almost jumped out of his skin when a tinny voice issued forth.

“Because you’re under a curse.”

“What?” both mice cried as one, and Mickey lurched forward.  “Whaddya mean a curse?! Who’s cursed us? An’ what for? How do we break it?  Is everybody else cursed or just us two? Do we know each other?” He whirled around.  “Minnie! Ask it, Minnie! Ask - oh gosh - ”

“Hold on, hold on.”  Minnie caught him by the back of his collar and held him there until he had stopped squirming - almost.  “Will you let me think? We only get one more question, you know, so we have to make it count.” She released him, chewing on her bottom lip.  “...I suppose the most important thing to know is … Mirror!” She turned to the glass, her decision made. “How can the curse be broken?”

Now it was Mickey’s turn to look at her approvingly.  Gosh, but was she ever smart. The mirror churned again.

“...By claiming the power of the Ghoul King.”

The Ghoul King.  The name sent a strange chill up Mickey’s spine.  He could feel Minnie shiver too. “Who...who is that?”  Realizing the mirror had fallen silent once more, Mickey ran a hand over his head in sheer frustration.  “Aw, c’mon, ya can’t just quit on us now! Who is this guy, and what’s he got to do with us? Does he have anythin’ to do with alla those monsters in the woods, and why’d he curse our memories away in the first place?  Hey! Hey!”

“It’s no use, Mickey - it can’t tell us any more,” Minnie said sadly, tugging at his sleeve to pull him away.  It all seemed pretty unfair to Mickey.

“Well - what’re we supposed to do now?  We can’t just sit here, Minnie, we gotta figure out how to break this curse and get our memories back!  Claimin’ the Ghoul King’s power - how on earth are we supposed to do that? What’s that even mean?”

Minnie wrung her hands.  “I don’t know. Oh, Mickey, I’m afraid - something about that name, I - I have the most awful feeling.  Like what I’ve forgotten is something terrible, or … or something I’m not  _ supposed  _ to remember.”

Mickey bent to catch her eyes, distracted, at least, from his own troubles in favor of comforting her.  “Aw, there’s nothin’ to be scared of. See? Whoever this guy is, he’s just some big spook like all th’rest of ‘em.  Can’t be worse than that swamp thing, can he? Huh? All covered in slime, y’know, huh?”

Minnie squirmed, smiling in spite of herself.  “Well, he  _ might  _ be.”

“Aw, I eat guys like that fer breakfast.  Er, that is, you know what I mean. Anyway, why don’t we ask the professor about it?  I bet he knows somethin’ about all this.”

“He certainly does seem to know a lot of - things,” said Minnie diplomatically.

“Yeah, an’ in no particular order.  But it can’t hurt to ask. C’mon.”

They raced down the stairs again, back toward the study-slash-laboratory where they’d sat for tea.

“Professor, we - whoop!”  Mickey’s feet went out from under him, and Minnie gave a little shriek as he fumbled.  His elbow smacked into a bottle full of blue liquid that was resting on a nearby shelf, sending it into a dangerous wobble, his hip banged against a table, almost upsetting a teetering pile of books.  As Minnie struggled to catch a handful of his coat to steady him, Mickey completed an impressive piece of footwork to keep himself upright and as a bonus, even managed to catch the bottle as it tipped forward.  The professor looked up from his tinkering.

“Yes?” he said pleasantly.  Mickey bent and snatched up a small object, glared at it, and handed it off to Minnie.

“ _ Marbles _ ,” he muttered darkly.  Minnie pursed her lips sympathetically, and pocketed the marble for safekeeping.  Mickey replaced the bottle he’d almost broken, shoving it carefully with his finger a little further back on the shelf.  His tone was artlessly casual. “P’rfessor...do you know anythin’ about ...the Ghoul King?”

“The Ghoul King?”  The duck paused, turned to blink at them both.  “Why, he’s the ruler of dis whole place. Da most powerful spook of them all!  Whatcha wanna know about him for?”

Mickey hesitated, feeling a little bit foolish, even though it was the old duck’s own mirror that had started the business in the first place.  “Well...the mirror told us somethin’ about the Ghoul King - about a curse.”

“Hmm.  Magic after all!  Just as I suspected.”  He rubbed his chin. “A curse, eh?  That sounds pretty serious.”

“What else can you tell us about the Ghoul King?” asked Minnie. She straightened a few of the objects lining the nearest shelf, trying to sound more casual than she felt. “Is he … dangerous?”  She shot a worried look at Mickey, studying his profile. Von Drake rubbed his chin.

“Dangerous?  Well, that sorta depends.  I can’t say that I know the fellow personally.  Where we are now, you see, this is the outskirts of his territory.  Alla th’monsters and tha spirits, th’ gremlins and goblins and creepies and crawlies and who knows what, all of ‘em answer to  _ him _ .  Now me, the professor, I’ve never had any problems - a few nightmare beasts in my petunia beds, sure, things like that.  But I wouldn’t wanna get on his bad side, that’s for sure. ”

“Oh.”  Minnie drifted a little closer to Mickey.  That meant monsters like those things in the woods, too.

“He’s some powerful wizard, too.  If somebody’s playing around with magic, they’ll have to deal with the Ghoul King sooner or later.”

“But what’s he gotta do with us?  Why would he wanna curse us? We don’t even….”  Mickey trailed off. He’d been about to say they didn’t know anything about the Ghoul King, him and Minnie, but if they didn’t remember anything, how could they know if it was true?  The same thought had occurred to Minnie, he could tell. Von Drake shrugged his shoulders.

“Sounds like a real mystery.” He scratched his head. “Maybe you made him angry somehow. Not in the habit of throwing balls through people’s windows or tearing up vegetable gardens, are you?”

“A’course not!”

“Well, you never know. Hmm - there’s always the possibility that you got caught up in some kinda spell by accident. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with you personally at all.”

“Well, our memories are pretty personal,” Mickey objected, a touch peevishly. Minnie touched his arm again, but added,

“If it didn’t have anything to do with us before, professor, it does now. What do you think we should do? We can’t just go on being cursed for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, I don’t see why not. People all over the place would give their left arm to start over somewhere new! But I guess if it bothers you that much, you gotta try and break the curse.”

“But how?”

“By claiming the Ghoul King’s power, of course, you said so yourself. Well, I mean,” Von Drake reached to clean his glasses again, and had to settle for straightening his hopeless cravat instead. “... Ya don’t gotta be a scientist for some of this stuff, you know.” 

“But we don’t know how to do that,” said Minnie.  Mickey plopped down onto the loveseat again and Minnie joined him.  “...We don’t even know what it means.”

Ludwig nodded sagely.  “Neither do I. But, you know, you run into these problems every so often - in science too.  Oh, sure, everything would be simple if you could just walk up and ask for the answers, but sometimes you gotta do the legwork.”

They all sat - or stood, in the professor’s case - for a moment, pondering.  “That’s it!” Mickey shouted suddenly, so loud that Minnie jumped.

“What is?”

“Why  _ don’t _ we do some legwork?  If anybody knows what’s goin’ on here - well, it’s gotta be the Ghoul King himself.”

“Oh, Mickey,” said Minnie. Pluto’s head lifted from the floor and his ears picked up.  Ludwig lifted a brow.

“You mean - you wanna travel to his castle?”

“Why not?  Look, we can’t just wander around for the rest of our lives, an’ if this Ghoul King really has put a curse on us, it ain’t just gonna go away on its own, right?”  He turned to Minnie now, making his case to her directly. “Whaddya say, Minnie? You’ll go with me, won’tcha? I’ll look after ya, I promise, no matter what happens, but … but ya will, won’t ya?”

“Well, I….”  Minnie hesitated.  Pluto had gotten excited as Mickey had, getting to his feet and now offering a couple yaps as his contribution to the discussion.  They were both looking at Minnie now with almost the same expression. Hope, determination - maybe even excitement. But Minnie couldn’t quite bring herself to feel the same way.

“Oh, Mickey, what if he’s - it sounds so dangerous.”  She looked to the professor, but he was only waiting to see what she would say.  So she looked at Mickey again. He was trying not to look disappointed, but he couldn’t really hide it.

“I guess it  _ is _ kinda crazy.  I just don’t see any other way.  I - I just gotta figure out who I am and … if ya … can’t see yer way t’comin’ along with me, I … I’ll come back and find ya somehow.  I promise. It’ll be okay.”

Oh, she just wanted to reach out and … Minnie shook her head.  She couldn’t stand it, that was all. And it  _ was _ crazy, of course it was.  But she knew her answer. She’d known it before he asked the question.  She took in a deep breath.

“...All right, Mickey.  We’ll do it.”

His head shot up at once, and if his ears could’ve picked up as high as Pluto’s could, they would’ve done.  “Ya mean - ?”

“We’ll do it together.”  Minnie nodded firmly. “ ...We’ll find the Ghoul King!”


	3. Friends or Foes

“I’m awful sorry,” said Mickey for the twentieth or thirtieth time.  By this point, he wasn’t even walking beside Minnie anymore, although his normal walking pace would’ve seen him half a step ahead of her.  He was lagging back, like Pluto probably would’ve done if he’d felt as guilty as Mickey felt. But Pluto’s conscience was clear, and he trotted in stead with a wagging tail, stopping here and there for a sniff, like usual. The fact that Minnie kept shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders like that every time Mickey apologized to her only made him feel worse.

“It’s really okay, Mickey,” she said, again, giving him the same patient smile she’d given him the last ten times.  That made him feel bad too. Everything did. 

Things had started off so well, too, when they’d left the professor’s house.  Mickey had thoroughly revised his initial impression of the professor, and if there’d been any way to apologize to him for having thought he was sort of an old crank, he would’ve done it.  But Mickey made amends at least by promising within himself that he’d be slower to judge next time. For all his quirks, the professor had been a big help to them, giving them their first really big clue and giving them directions (although he hadn’t seemed at all sure of those, it was the thought that counted) - even sending them some snacks for later.  They’d set off in fine spirits, the three of them, promising to call back again someday and tell him who they turned out to be, if they ever got the chance.

And now, here they were - lost again.  It was all Mickey’s fault and all of them knew it.  He was the one who had insisted, when they’d reached the fork in the path back there, that the professor had told them to go this way.  Minnie had thought the opposite, but she had yielded to him under pressure and now nothing looked anything like what the professor had described.  They were lost, thoroughly lost, and it wasn’t any good to turn around and try to take the other fork, because after a while, the path had sort of disappeared in the woods too.  Mickey’d been too stubborn to turn around right then and there, compounding his original mistake, and by the time he was forced to own it all, it was too late. And they were lost.

He wished Minnie would just get angry with him, scold him - then at least they would have something productive to do.  But she refused to oblige, and only kept forgiving him each time he apologized. It was like she knew somehow that all he wanted was to stop and quarrel for a while and was just being uncooperative on purpose.  And he couldn’t do a thing about it. So, thoroughly outplayed, he trudged along after her, even as they wandered deeper and deeper into the woods.

It wasn’t the same forest they’d been in before, he knew that much for sure.  These trees were even taller, broader across too. It must’ve been an awfully old forest.  Mickey wondered how long these lands had belonged to the Ghoul King, or if they always had.  The professor had said he was powerful. Did that mean he was ancient too? There were a lot of questions he wished they’d thought to ask, even though he suspected even Von Drake didn’t know the answers to many of them.

A cold wind rattled through the trees, and Mickey shivered a moment, glancing at Minnie to see if she looked chilly.  It was strange. If you stood still for a moment, the wind almost seemed to speak.

“Say, Minnie….”

“Yes?” She didn’t look his way, but Mickey had removed his hat and was fiddling with it, so he didn’t notice. If he’d been paying attention, he probably could’ve finally goaded her into an argument after all, because the truth was, if he was speaking to her to apologize one more time, Minnie was prepared to take steps. But another thought had distracted him now.

“Ya said before that you could kinna feel things, even when you couldn’t remember why.  Right?”

“A little bit.  Sometimes. It isn’t really enough for me to - I could just be imagining things, after all,” Minnie replied, a little defensively.  Mickey pressed on anyway.

“When the mirror was tellin’ us about this Ghoul King character, I … well, I just sorta felt like I oughta remember something, a little bit.”  He didn’t like to tell her that what he’d felt was closer to a thrill of dread than anything, like the memory he was missing was a bad one. “Did you … feel anything like that?”

Minnie reached up to toy with her necklace. She always seemed to do that when she was thinking. That felt familiar too.  “...Yes,” she admitted finally. She couldn’t bring herself to lie to Mickey, even though it was her first inclination. “I don’t understand it - but I felt the same way.  I don’t know why someone like that would want to curse us, but I’m sure that everything that’s happened - it all has to do with him. And….” She stopped, unable for a moment to continue.  Mickey studied her.

“What is it?”

She clutched the gemstone in her necklace again, fingers running over the chain.  “...I… I feel like  _ you’re  _ in terrible danger, Mickey,” she confessed at last.  “I’m not afraid for myself, but -”

Mickey looked at her with wide eyes.  Was that the real reason she was so hesitant to find the Ghoul King?  Because she was worried about  _ him _ …?  He stopped short, reaching out to take her hand.  “Aw - heck, ya ain’t - Everything’s gonna be just fine!  You’ll see!” He turned to walk backwards, taking a couple quick steps to tug her along.  “...This Ghoul King’s probably a grumpy ol’ geezer. Long beard, bad knees, th’works. Even if he tries ta give me a hard time, I’ll jus’ take ‘im by the ear an’ teach him a lesson, see?”

“Oh, Mickey!”  Minnie brought her free hand to her cheek in distress, but a smile was pulling at her mouth all the same.

“That’s right, an’ if he tries to work any more magic on me, I’ll just break his ol’ magic wand in half with my bare hands.”

“Mickey, stop that!”  She giggled. “...He’s liable to turn you into a frog or something, and then where will you be?”

“If he does, I’ll just zap my tongue right into his eye an’ hop circles around ‘im until he lays off.”  He rubbed his chin throughtfully. “A’course, after that, I’ll haveta find a princess, I expect….”

Minnie bumped up against him chidingly, but she was still laughing and Mickey felt pretty good about himself.  He was still holding onto her hand too, and didn’t see any reason to release it unless she pulled away herself.  So they walked on like that for a while, as Mickey offered further and wilder speculation about what sort of man or beast the Ghoul King might be, and what he, Mickey, would do about it when he got the chance.  In fact, they were having such a pleasant time, with Pluto bounding along beside them, that Mickey didn’t even notice the shadows growing deeper, and the sound of birdsong growing more and more rare. They were laughing together, having a pretty swell time, Mickey thought, before it gradually dawned on him that he’d been paying less attention to where they were going than ever.  He slowed, and Minnie, wiping her eyes, looked to him curiously.

“...Wonder where we’ve got to now,” he murmured.

“I’m not sure.  It’s awfully quiet, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.  Dark too.”  Mickey frowned.  It was too late, he knew, for the bad feeling he got to do much good, but he drew Minnie a little closer to his side.  “...Stay close, okay?”

They crept forward, now finding that it felt much wiser to be silent than to talk together.  Pluto was quiet too, his head lowered toward the ground, although his nose and ears were working attentively away.  Mickey’s spine was already prickling by the time he heard Minnie gasp and tug hard at his hand.

He saw them at almost the same time Minnie did.  At first, Mickey thought they’d stumbled into some sort of animal graveyard, littered with the bones of strange creatures unlike any he’d seen before.  Long, lanky shapes, pale and stark against the deep dark of the forest lay stretched out across the ferns and grass, their limbs making jagged ankles at the joints.  He could distinguish one or two at first, but as they stopped in their tracks, turned around to figure out how they’d managed to walk up so close without being any the wiser, Mickey realized they were already surrounded by them.  There was another creature and another - they must’ve walked past a half dozen without ever noticing, too distracted with each other to pay attention to what was happening off to the sides of the path. Pluto might’ve alerted them, but with no movement and probably no decay left to smell, he hadn’t sensed them.

“...Creepy place,” Mickey murmured.  Minnie nodded, but didn’t say anything.  She didn’t need to. They agreed, entirely without conversation, to move on without any delay, stepping carefully to avoid making unnecessary noise.  They needn’t have bothered. It was already too late.

As they edged past, one of the skeletons stirred, and then unmistakably moved.  Mickey froze, horrified. They were  _ alive _ , or something like it.  They weren’t quite animals either, because the one he had his eyes on lifted itself until it sat upright like a man.  It had a long, curved head, like the skull of a cow, or something like that, but when its jaws parted, he could see its sharp teeth, slick with saliva. He felt Minnie suck in a breath.  For a second, he thought she was going to scream, but she was made of tougher stuff than that. She covered her mouth instead, her eyes wide and scared in the dark. Mickey moved closer to her. “Stay behind me, Min,” he said quietly.  He wouldn’t have needed to tell her anything at all. Minnie was already close to him. So was Pluto, and Mickey heard him give a low growl.

“What are they?” she whispered, her eyes following the creatures.

“I dunno.  But I ain’t really that keen on findin’ out.”  He squeezed her hand, although it would’ve been harder to hold it tighter than she was already holding onto him.  “...Just stick close t’me. Maybe if we don’t make any sudden moves, they won’t notice us.” Minnie’s free hand wound itself around his arm, and they moved very slowly, as though they were all one entity together.

“Do you think they’re friendly?” Minnie breathed in his ear. Mickey shivered.

“I...dunno.  But I wouldn’t like t’ chance it,” he murmured back. Friendly. It was just like the swamp thing.  Fortunately, the things didn’t seem to have great vision, or else they just weren’t interested. There were more of them sitting up now, as if awakening.  The sound they made when their boney joints would slide past each other made Mickey’s skin crawl. He took one cautious step and then another, eyes darting back and forth between the things.  He could feel Pluto pressing up to his side, and was grateful it didn’t seem to occur to the pup to start barking at the things, or worse, jumping up at one of them. He seemed just as unsure as Mickey was.  They crept along, and Mickey had almost convinced himself they were going to be able to sneak right by unnoticed, until there was a grinding screech that sent goosebumps prickling all over his skin. One of the creatures turned its head and pointed its black eye sockets right in their direction.  Mickey stopped cold. Had it seen them? He held his breath. 

A long moment went by and the creature didn’t move. Maybe...it really couldn’t tell they were there, if they just held still enough….

It moved.  It was so quick that before Mickey could do more than pull Minnie against his side and put his arm around her, the creature was there.  It pulled itself across the forest floor with its hands, neck craning forward, dipping until it was nose-to-nose with Mickey himself, taking two huge steps with its legs to crouch like some sort of ghastly primate, studying them.  Its face didn’t move, but Mickey could feel icy breath hitting his face. He didn’t dare turn his head to look at Minnie, but she went so still, he could tell she was holding her breath entirely. From his side, Pluto gave a low growl, but so soft Mickey knew he was afraid too.  They looked at each other, the creature and Mickey and Minnie. It sat back on its haunches. Mickey took one breath, but his relief was short lived.

The creature threw its head back and gave a grating, high-pitched scream.  Minnie gasped. 

“Oh, no!” she all but whimpered.  The creatures around them were already reacting, lifting themselves from the grass, heads rising to attention, bones clattering and scraping as the began to move, circling closer.

There was nowhere to go.  Without thinking, Mickey reached to draw a weapon, but there wasn’t one, so he snatched up a nearby stick instead, and felt, instead of fear, a bolt of strange determination.  It was hopeless, but that didn’t matter. He’d fight every single one of these creatures until he scattered them across the forest or until they tore him apart, there was no other option.  He’d protect Minnie or die trying, that was all. She was afraid, clinging to him - he could feel her trembling. For just a second, he hated himself for bringing her here. If he’d just listened, if he’d left her safely with the professor, if he’d - if he’d

_      Been _

_              stronger _

 

The first creature stretched out a hand, or claw, each joint extending one by one.  There wasn’t much time to make a decision. Maybe he could frighten it off, make it think it wasn’t worth the trouble of attacking them, as if it were a bear or something like that.  Of course, maybe he would just make it angry. But time was up. Just as the long finger was about to brush his face, Mickey gave a yell and smacked it away. 

The creature jerked back at once, and Mickey pushed Minnie around behind him, now bringing up both hands to his stick.  He swiped it through the air a couple times to show he meant business, and Pluto growled again, louder this time, prepared to throw in his couple of cents worth too.  The creature gave another shriek, and a couple of the other skeletons pulled themselves nearer too, in that same eerie half-upright motion. Mickey took a step back, swinging his stick to clear a semicircle in front of himself.  Maybe they should run - but he felt like those long limbs could easily outpace them. 

The creature nearest to their left gave a rattling sound of its own now, extending a clawed hand toward Minnie.  Mickey brought the stick down on its arm, but not before it had taken hold of the hem of her dress. She gasped, yanking it back, and there was a ripping sound in the process.  

“Get off her, ya big creep!”  Mickey brought his stick down on the creature’s skull this time.  The contact sent a shock through his hands, but he didn’t let go of his stick.  The monster recoiled like the first one had, but unlike the first one it seemed to be more angry than surprised, and it opened its maw, howling right in Mickey’s face.  He yelled back, brandishing the stick. The creature paused, as if deciding, and then it lunged forward. Mickey met it with the stick, blocked its strike, but then its jaws snapped shut around the stick itself.  He yelped, wrestling with it a moment, but he wasn’t strong enough. It ripped the stick from his hands, and with another sharp crack, its sharp teeth shattered it to splinters. It didn’t spit it out, and he realized maybe it couldn’t - but its mouth opened again slowly, lower jaw dropping until it was almost perpendicular to the ground.  Bits and pieces of shredded wood fell to the ground. Mickey felt cold. How easily would it tear through his flesh with those teeth? Maybe, if he fought hard enough, though, Minnie would have a chance to escape.

“Min….”  His own voice sounded like it was coming from a million miles away.  It was so quiet, so deceptively calm, that it surprised Mickey himself.  “Be ready t’run. Okay?” 

“What?” she gasped.  Mickey wished she’d let go of him.  One of the things could strike again any second and it would be too late.  

“Let go a’me and I’m gonna buy ya some time.  Ya gotta run, okay? Be ready to run!”

“No!  Mickey -”  He almost did look back then, couldn’t help it, because Minnie threw her  arms around him, pressed her cheek to his back. “I won’t leave you!” 

“Minnie!”

He didn’t mind so much if something happened to him, at least he’d done his best, but what about Minnie?  What would happen to her, and … and he’d dragged her into this in the first place. He was supposed to protect her, supposed to take care of her - 

The first creature darted forward again.  It was too late. Mickey closed his eyes tight, threw his arms out, tried to make sure that wherever it aimed, it would hit him first and not Minnie.  And he waited for the strike to come. Would it be a blow, or would those boney fingers pierce right through his flesh? It all passed through his mind in an instant, and the next thing Mickey knew, it had reached him.

All he could hear was his own heart beating.  He’d thought, just for a second, he’d heard Minnie scream, but now he could only feel her breath falling against his neck in little soft gasps.  Oh, god, it hadn’t hurt her, had it? But then he felt the claws against his own cheek and opened his eyes again. It was nose-to-nose with him once more, the creature, and they stared at each other.  It lifted its claw again, stroked it slowly down his cheek. It was cold and rough, and Mickey shuddered. It drew the finger back again, made a clacking sound somewhere in its throat. The finger drifted down towards Mickey’s chest.  Would it thrust it straight through his heart? He felt Minnie holding him tight, her breath hot against his shoulder, so different from the creature’s cold breaths on his face.

The finger ran across his chest, paused a moment as if noting the way it rose and fell with his breath.  

Was it … studying him?  The creature who had reached for Minnie before, perhaps emboldened by its companion, now stretched a claw out again.  Mickey tensed, prepared to fight all over again, but to his surprise, he felt Minnie suddenly shake her head.

“Wait.  I think ….”  She slowly loosened her grip, just enough to lift her head from his shoulder, unpeel herself from his back enough to look up at the monster herself.  That bony claw stretched toward her face, and even though Mickey’s teeth clenched, he watched as it poked her cheek carefully, like you might touch a baby’s, just to see if it was as soft as it looked.  Minnie held still, but her eyes turned to meet his. Mickey shook his head faintly, helplessly. The first creature was prodding at his hat.

Was it really possible these inhumane monsters were just  … curious?

There was an entire little group of them gathered now, clattering to one another as if conversing, but only the two or three who had approached to begin with made any attempt to touch the mice at all.  One of them stretched a finger toward Pluto, but drew it back again when he leapt back and barked. It didn’t try again. The first beast tugged at Mickey’s ear now and he gave a little bleat of surprise.

“H-hey, watch it now, that’s -”

The creature who was most fascinated with Minnie darted both hands out at once, and without warning.  Mickey wasn’t fast enough. The creature scooped Minnie up around the waist and held her aloft, and as it did, it threw its head back and let out a spine-tingling howl. The others quickly joined in, until the racket was almost deafening.

“Oh - oh!”  Minnie kicked her legs, but the creature’s grip on her was solid. She turned back to reach for Mickey, eyes wide.

This was going entirely too far.  Mickey lunged forward, shouting over the din.  “No! Whattya think yer doin’?! Let go of her, ya big creep!”

All thoughts of truce were gone.  Mickey was prepared to bowl right through the lot of them if they didn’t let Minnie go, and he was on the verge of trying it, with Pluto hot on his heels, when a wild cry burst through the air from somewhere else entirely, startling the whole group - mice, pup and skeletons alike.  The creature holding Minnie snapped its jaw shut mid-howl and looked up sharply, just in time to be hit upside the head by a medium-sized rock. Caught completely off-guard, it lost its balance, stumbling backwards, losing its grip on her at last. Mickey, lunging forward, caught Minnie as she fell and stumbled to his knees, rising in a flash and scrambling aside.  What now?!

It was a stranger - no, two - three of them, tearing through the brush and raising an unholy racket of their own.  Ready now for just about anything to happen, no matter how absurd, there was an instant when Mickey wondered if he was about to have to fight them off too - but one of the three, a gangly person with prominent front teeth, caught Mickey’s gaze.

“We’ll help ya!” he shouted, in a voice that carried a peculiar drawl.  

“Get away from th’ lil’ girl!” shouted the other tall fellow, a firmly built, horse-faced type of guy.  The third newcomer was a duck, and he looked vaguely familiar. They all did, but no more than vaguely, and Mickey couldn’t be sure if this younger duck looked sort of similar to Von Drake because there was actually a resemblance or because they were the only two ducks whose faces he could clearly picture.  He didn’t say anything, just made a noise that stood in for whatever he meant to express, but he was hurling rocks with both hands as the group approached.

However it was, Mickey wasn’t about to let them fight his battle for him, so he dove for a new stick and charged, adding his voice to the others.  The creatures were baffled now, hissing, swiping at these interlopers with their claws, but too confused to actually form a purposeful attack. The newly-formed foursome made themselves into a sort of a line, driving the skeletons back, and they were making good progress when somebody dashed in front of him.  Mickey thought at first it was the duck fellow, but he was wrong. 

It was Minnie.  Unsatisfied with cowering behind the menfolk, she had joined the fray at last, and she jumped in front of the group, eyes flashing.  “Stop! Don’t hurt them!”

“Don’t hurt  _ them? _ ” The tallest fellow repeated incredulously, but they did stop. Minnie turned her attention to the skeletons, squinting at them. “All right, that’s enough! Go on! Move along now!”  Mickey almost dropped his stick, he was so startled. But Minnie was waving her hands at them now, her tiny form dwarfed by theirs. And yet, sure enough, they fell back as she advanced. “Go on!  Shoo! Shoo!” The creatures, just as startled as Mickey, if not more, didn’t know what to make of this development any more than the last shock, and the bizarreness of the whole thing seemed to become too much for them.  First one, and then the rest turned and began to slink away, clattering to one another in low, wounded tones. He almost felt a little guilty, which was confusing - but all of it was confusing.

They all watched the skeletons haul themselves back out into the forest until they were out of sight before anybody spoke again.  Then, Mickey turned to their three rescuers.

“Are you folks okay?” asked the fellow with the buckteeth.

“We heard th’ screamin’ and came as fast as we could,” explained the horse-faced fellow. “When we saw ya surrounded by them skeletons, we knew we had ya do sumpthin’ quick.”

“Yeah, we’re all right - ain’t we?” Mickey glanced at Minnie.  She hovered close to his side again now, apparently more shy at the prospect of meeting new folks as she was meeting monsters.  Mickey rested a hand lightly on her back, just to reassure her. “Gosh, we woulda been in a heap of trouble if ya hadn’t shown up when you did, I guess, uh….” Mickey extended a hand. 

“It’s all thanks ta Donald,” said the gangly fellow modestly. “Or we never woulda been this deep in the woods anyhow.” Mickey glanced at the tall one questioningly, but he shook his head, jabbing a thumb in turn towards the duck “ _ He’s _ Donald.  I’m Horace.”

“And my name’s Goofy!”  The fella gave hiccuping sort of a laugh and Mickey found that, bucktoothed grin and all, he couldn’t help liking him at once.  Fact was, he liked the whole bunch. It was strange, too, the way they all felt so familiar. It wasn’t as intense a sensation as he’d felt with Minnie, but just about.  Like they were old friends, something like that. And who could say if they weren’t? 

“Oh, well...I’m Mickey.  This is Minnie - oh, an’ Pluto, too.”  He shook Goofy’s hand, then Horace, and when he reached out for Donald’s, the duck gave him an indulgent smile.

“No need to thank me - I was just doing my civic duty, that’s all. Those boneheads needed to learn a lesson or two - heh! So it’s lucky for you  _ l  _ was around.”

Horace’s long face lengthened by about half as Donald was speaking, but sprang back into shape now as he interrupted smoothly, “Yeah, Donald, tell ‘em all about how we happened acrost ‘em anyhow - followed yer eagle eye, didn’t we? Yer bloodhound nose?” He chortled deeply. Donald whipped around and glared at him, which had no effect at all. Even if it had, it would’ve failed to stop Goofy from speaking up.

“Well, I thought we were tryin’ to chase him down after runnin’ away from those big ol’ spiders before.”

“Quiet!” Donald hissed.

“Spiders?” Minnie squeaked.  Mickey shot her a reassuring smile.  Nothing to worry about. Meanwhile, Horace was grinning now.

“Aw, you don’t gotta be sore about it. Still fought like the dickens when ya got good and cornered, didn’tcha?”

Donald crossed his arms, apparently deciding he wasn’t going to hear any of that.  “This whole place is crazy. Full of monsters and haunted and everything. I hate it here.”

“We were tryin’ to get through the forest on our way - someplace,” Mickey noted, deciding to be a little cryptic at the last second.  “What’re  _ you _ guys doing out here?”

Horace shook his head.  “T’be honest with ya, that’s the nuttiest part of it all.  We ain’t entirely certain.”

Mickey felt those goosebumps on his back again.  “...Whaddya mean?”

The threesome exchanged glances.  Horace shrugged. “May as well tell ‘em.  Can’t lead to much worse than th’ stuff we’ve already run into today.”

Donald didn’t need any further encouragement.  “We’ve all gone crazy or something. None of us can remember anything before yesterday.”

 “We all woke up and we wasn’t at home - we were out here,”  Goofy said, and picked at the sleeve of his coat, a faintly tattered red garment that might’ve been very fine once.  “-Dressed like this! And we couldn’t remember anything about where we came from or how we got here. It’s like we’ve lost our minds!  Haha, who’da ever thought that could happen ta  _ me _ ?”

Mickey and Minnie exchanged a sharp look as Horace continued from there.  “Well, once we got our wits about us an’ talked it over a bit, we started to remember a couple things about each other and whatnot - but other than knowin’ each other’s names and faces, everything’s a great big nothin’!”

“Somebody put some sort of whammie on us, I know it,” said Donald.  “And when I get my hands on whoever it was, I’m gonna - ” he trailed off into an incomprehensible stream of whatever it was he planned to do to the fella.

Mickey looked at Minnie again, asking silently for her permission.  She nodded slightly. He cleared his throat.

“Well… yer not gonna believe this, I guess, but … a-actually, the same thing happened to Minnie and me.”

The other three stared at them.  Goofy was the first to thaw. He gave Donald a tap on the shoulder that almost sent him flying.

“Didja hear that, Donald?  They can’t remember anythin’ neither!  Just like us! Ahyuck!” He laughed again.  “Isn’t that great?”

“ _ No! _ ”

“ Listen, let’s not all stand around here like a bunch of suckers. Those things could change their mind any minute an’ come right back.  Besides, I’ve still got th’feelin’ like somebody’s still missing,” Horace complained. “I think we should keep movin’.”

“Aw, that again?”  Donald waved a hand, rolling his eyes.  “I told ya before, you’re just imaginin’ things.  I’m sure there was only the five of us, right? You and Goofy and me an’ the girls?”

“Yeah, and I suppose that’s why none of us can remember why we’re out here in the first place, huh?”  Horace shook his head.

“Wait just a minute,” interrupted Mickey.  “Did you say girls? What girls?”

Horace blanched.  “Oh, heck, the girls!  I really am losin’ my mind.  We gotta get back there right away.”

“We left ‘em back in th’ clearing when we heard the screaming,” Goofy added.

Donald grimaced.  “Yeah, an’ we said we’d be right back.  Daisy’s gonna kill us.”

“Prob’ly just you,” Horace chuckled, but it died away quickly. “...Clarabelle’ll take care of  _ me, _ tho.  We best get movin’ right quick.”

Donald turned toward Mickey.  “Which way are  _ you _ folks going?”

“Er…”  Mickey shot a guilty look Minnie’s way.  “Um… we did get some directions before, but we sorta … got lost again.”

Donald snorted.  “That’s just great.  So we’re all lost. Some compass!”

“Compass?”  Mickey’s ears twitched.  “What compass?”

“Goofy’s got a compass,” Horace explained impatiently, jerking a finger his way.  Goofy nodded, and drew the instrument proudly forth from his coat pocket.

“A-yup!  Right here!”  He flicked it open and held it out for the two mice to look at, furrowing his brow.  “...The only trouble is, th’needle keeps jumpin’ around. I guess maybe it’s broke or something like that.”

“Aw, that’s a shame,” said Minnie, reaching out absentmindedly to scrub her thumb over the glass to wipe off a smudge.  Just as Goofy said, the needle was wobbling around erratically, now pointing one way, then somewhere else. But as Minnie held it, something curious happened.  Goofy noticed it first.

“Hey, lookit that!”  He pointed, and everybody looked down to see Minnie’s necklace pulsing with a faint inner glow.  The wobbling of the needle was falling into time with the pulse of light, and as it did, the pulses got slower, until they stopped altogether - and so did the needle, which now pointed solidly in one single direction.  

Nobody spoke for a long moment, then everybody tried to talk at once.

“Wow!”

“What in th’ heck?”

“How did it - how did you?”

“Hold it, hold it,” Mickey broke in, his voice rising shrilly above the others until it got quiet again.  “Minnie, how’d you do that?”

“I don’t know!”  She shook her head, holding the stone in her fingertips to study it.  “I didn’t know I could!”

“I suppose it must be magnetized or somethin’, huh?” offered Goofy, bending to get a closer look.

“Who cares?  It’s fixed, right?  So that gives us somethin’ to go off of.”  Donald paused. “Except we’re still lost though.”

“No we ain’t,” Horace decided firmly.  “If we keep walking, we’ll have to end up somewhere sooner or later.  Anyway, it just so happens th’ girls are thatta way, so that’s a start.”  Everybody thought a moment, but nobody could disagree with this logic, until Horace jerked his head in the direction the needle was now pointing.  “Come on. We can jaw later.” He turned and crashed off into the brush. With few other options, the others turned to follow. Goofy bent toward Mickey’s ear.

“He’s been actin’ sorter strange for hours now - like he’s goin’ somewhere in a hurry only he can’t remember where it is.”

“Yeah, I know how he feels,” Mickey mumbled back.  Goofy shrugged his shoulders helplessly and walked on, with Pluto trotting close behind, always eager to keep up with whoever was going the fastest.  

Mickey followed along for a moment in silence before his thoughts drifted back to those creatures and he glanced toward Minnie.  She was following along last of all, and she looked pretty thoughtful herself. He dropped back a few paces to fall in step with her, letting the others get ahead of them just a bit.

“That sure was a neat trick with yer necklace.  An’ ...er...gosh, you were awful brave back there, too, Minnie,” he noted praisingly.  She blinked, and then seemed to suddenly find something terribly interesting about her skirt, which she stared at.  He could see she was smiling, however.

“You really think so?” she asked after a little pause, her eyes bobbing up to his for an instant, skittering away again as her cheeks flushed happily.  Mickey’s grin widened.

“Sure I do!  Showed an awful lotta guts, runnin’ right up an’ wallopin’ that thing on th’ nose.”

“Oh, Mickey, I did no such thing.”  But she giggled and looked pleased, which pleased Mickey.  It was very circular and disgusting, honestly.

“Well, ya woulda done, I bet, if they hadn’t chickened out and run away!  Heck, I’d take ya anywhere as my bodyguard!”

“Oh, you’re just teasing now, stop it.”

“I mean it!  I’m serious! I -”  He cut himself short when he realized Donald was staring back at the two of them pretty intently.  “...I really would,” he finished in a much lower tone, and then went quiet. It was too late, though, because Donald’s suspicions had already been aroused.  Mickey avoided his gaze for as long as possible, but after a few minutes, Minnie paused to wait for Pluto, who was nosing around an interesting bush, and Donald took the opportunity to sidle up to Mickey.   

“She’s your girlfriend, right?” he asked, with a knowing grin.

“Who?  Minnie?”  Mickey darted a look at her and felt immediately guilty, as though it was obvious to the whole world that he’d taken an instant shine to her and everybody knew it.  “O-oh, no, that’s - what I mean is, we’ve only just met.”

“So?  What’s that got to do with anything?  Unless you’re a chicken. I’m the kinda guy who ain’t afraid to speak his mind!  Why, if we weren’t out here in the woods, you’d see what kind of fella I am with wemmen.”  He waggled his brows suggestively.

Mickey doubted all that, but he wasn’t about to press the point.  “Well, sure, but - I mean, she’s swell, it’s just…”

But Donald had thawed now, and was just shaking his head with that sage look again.  “I get it, I get it.” He winked at Mickey, which made him flush, but he didn’t dare say anything which might prevent the matter from being dropped.

Pluto darted ahead of the group a ways now, and started to bark.  Happy for any distraction, Mickey hurried forward to join him. “What is it, fella?  Whatcha smell, huh?”

“Probably another monster of some kind - more of those bones,” Donald suggested.  But the words were hardly out of his mouth before a high pitched voice broke through the stillness.

“Hello?  Hello-o-o!   _ Donald! _ ”

Donald snapped to attention, and he actually looked a little worried for just a moment.  But then the voice called his name again, this time in a tone that was clearly pleased, and Donald looked relieved.  Now apparently convinced it was safe to reveal himself, he actually raced forward, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste.  “ _ Daisy!   _ Here I am!”

Mickey felt Minnie drift up beside him as they watched, fascinated.  A girl was emerging from the trees, and when she caught sight of Donald, she gave a yell, her whole face lighting up.  Donald and the girl ran to one another and collided at full speed, falling to the ground in the process. Neither one of them seemed to mind, though.  They just sat there, hugging and talking over each other, Donald about the creatures, and the girl about thinking something awful had happened to him, until at last, the girl pushed back and sat up completely on Donald’s lap.  She gave his shoulder a slap.

“Donald, you cad!  I don’t care if you fought a whole army - we’ve been waiting out here for ages and ages!  What if those - ugh - spiders came back again or something? Haven’t you figured out what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!  I haven’t been able to remember anything at all.  It’s not my fault, I didn’t have anything to do with it - ask Goofy!”  

“Where’s Clarabelle?” Horace interrupted.

“Eh?”  Daisy turned her head.  “Oh ! She was right behind me a second ago.”

Horace frowned.  “What? Aw, that’s all I need, th’ old woman trompin’ through the woods on her own.  Probably bring a whole herd of them bones down on us, raisin’ an unholy racket.” He raised his hands to his mouth.  “Clarabelle!?” Where’ve you got to?” Without waiting for a reply, he stomped past Daisy into the trees, and Mickey could hear him calling for her again, this Clarabelle person. Donald had gotten to his feet by now and was drawing his companion along with him, his arm tucked safely around her waist.

“This is Daisy,” he introduced her proudly. “She’s my best girl, you know.”

“I’m your only girl or nothing at all,” Daisy corrected mercilessly, but she smiled at the two mice then so warmly that it was hard to know whether to feel afraid of her or endeared. Mickey thought she was a little intimidating, but Minnie beamed.  She took his arm, though, and that was all right.

“I’m Minnie. This is Mickey.”

“Charmed, I’m sure. But this really is the middle of nowhere, isn’t it?” Daisy looked around, frowning. “What on earth are we doing out here? My head’s so foggy - I can’t remember a thing about yesterday - or the day before that, either.” She rubbed at her forehead, leaning against Donald a little for support.  Mickey thought about that comment he’d made, about how he was with women. It didn’t quite match up to the current display, as he stood there patting Daisy’s hand. So he was the kind of fella who talked kinda big, huh? Well, the way he was looking at Daisy now, Mickey believed that best girl stuff and thought he just wouldn’t mention any of the rest of it.

Horace was coming back their way now at last, with a tall woman on his arm.  She was bawling against his shoulder, or so Mickey thought at first, but as they got closer, he realized she wasn’t exactly crying - she was talking in a tone that sounded sort of like a bawl.  Horace looked a bit embarrassed, but sort of glad all the same.

“Now, now - don’t cry, old girl.”  He patted her back awkwardly, but it seemed as though he really was glad to see her, no matter how he talked.  “I told ya we’d chase off whatever it was, an’ that ‘s exactly what we did. Here’s th’ young folks I was tellin’ you about.  There’s somethin’ screwy goin’ on, and that’s all there is to it.”

“But I can’t stop worryin’ over it, Horace!  How could I forget so much all at once? After everything we’ve -”  She stopped, looking stricken. “Why, I’ve clean  _ forgot  _ everything we’ve been through together!  Oh, Horace, it’s awful!”

“What in the world is going on?” demanded Daisy again, before Clarabelle gasped, pointing at the two mice.

“Why, I’ve forgotten about them, too!  I can’t even remember their names with ‘em right in front of me!”

“Will ya calm yerself, woman?  None of us know them two, I’ve just been tellin’ ya.  They’re just in the same fix as us, that’s all.”

It was starting to feel a little redundant, but Mickey introduced himself and Minnie one more time.  He barely got their names out before Minnie burst in. She’d been getting more and more excited with each new face, and was now practically clapping her hands in glee.

“Oh, but - it’s really going to be all right now, don’t you see? I never dreamed we’d meet so many nice people all the way out here, even if it’s all so strange.  I feel so much better about everything, and I’m so glad to know you all - it feels so lucky, or - or like it really is fate after all!” 

“But what in the world’s happening to us?” Clarabelle almost bellowed. “Why can’t I remember-“

At this point, Mickey thought it best to head things off. “Say, I think I ken help explain that - or at least some of it. I’ll tell ya everything we know, but first, how’s about we move on outta here before any of them creatures come back?”

There was immediate and universal approval for this plan.  Nobody was in a hurry to meet up with any more monsters, so after a brief consultation with Goofy’s compass, they set off to put some distance between themselves and more trouble.  Hopefully.

As they walked, they exchanged what little information they could about themselves, which wasn’t much.  Donald and the others certainly knew one another, but weren’t sure why or from where. Neither Mickey nor Minnie could recall meeting any of them before, but Mickey was convinced at once their situations must be connected somehow.

The newly-formed party made their way through the forest until they reached a clearing full of large boulders. Daisy said she was tired, and although Minnie wouldn’t say so, Mickey could tell she was getting tired too, so after making sure the rocks were in no way alive - one couldn’t be too careful these days - they all sat down to take a rest and, over sharing the food the professor had given them, Mickey began to explain everything that had happened to him and Minnie thus far - the woods, the swamp creatures , Pluto, the professor - all of it. It was a wild tale to be sure, but it was a little too crazy to be anything but the truth. What sealed it, though, was probably when he got to the magic mirror and what it had told them, because Goofy almost fell off his seat.

“The Ghoul King!”  Goofy slammed a fist down into his palm, even as the others turned to gape at him.  “That’s right! How could I have forgotten  _ that? _ ”

“You mean you  _ remember _ somethin’?” demanded Horace after a long pause.

“And you didn’t say anything about it until just now?” added Daisy, in a low tone that made Donald wince instinctively.  Goofy just shook his head cheerfully.

“Nope!  I didn’t remember it until just now.  But it all came back tuh me! Thuh Ghoul King’s how we got inta this fix.”

“We already  _ know _ that, ya big palooka!” snapped Donald. “Mickey just said so!”

“Sure!  Everybody knows that, right, Mickey?”

Mickey fought back a groan.  “Goofy, are ya sayin’ you remember somethin’ ya _ didn’t  _ remember before just now?

“Yeah!  I remember about th’ Ghoul King.  We gotta find him before it’s too late!  If we don’t, somethin’ awful is gonna happen.”  Goofy squinted. “...I just can’t recall what it is.”

“Some big help,” groused Donald, crossing his arms.  Mickey shrugged.

“Well, it’s somethin’, at least, which is more than we had to start with.  Is there anythin’ else you ken tell us, Goofy? Anything at all?”

Goofy scratched his head. “No, that’s all I can remember. But I’m sure of it. This Ghoul King’s the reason for all this magical whatjamawoosin’. Somehow.”

“Well, at least we’re all together now, aren’t we?” said Minnie after a few moments of defeated silence had passed. “I’m sure we can break the curse somehow.”

She sounded so earnest and hopeful that Mickey had to strangle down a strong desire to leap over to where she was sitting and sweep her into his arms, and he was irrationally jealous of Daisy, who was sitting close enough to Minnie to reach out and take her hands affectionately.

“I’m sure you’re right.  I feel better already!”

Clarabelle was studying the two mice closely throughout all this.  “You remind me of someone,” she said at last, looking very thoughtful.  Mickey sat still, as though this might help her scan her memory more effectively, but she just shrugged after a moment.  “...Can’t think who it can be, though. Landsakes! You really think a magic spell could do all this to us?”

“That’s what the professor said,” Mickey shrugged.  He’d removed his hat by now, was playing with it. “So I - well, Minnie and me - we couldn’t see what else to do but to try and find the Ghoul King.”

“And break the curse,” added Minnie, looking up at him.  Her voice was firm, and he gave her a silent, grateful look.  He remembered how hesitant she’d been, and she would’ve been well within her rights to scold him in front of everybody for getting her lost and then almost eaten by those monsters before - but she was as faithful as anything and wasn’t going to display the doubt she must’ve felt.  He felt a strong surge of affection for her, only looking away at last when Pluto jumped up beside him and laid his head across Mickey’s knee to be stroked.

“So what do we do now?” Donald was asking. “We’ve gotta find this guy if we want any answers, right?”

“I don’t much like the sound of it,” Clarabelle fretted, “but what choice have we have? It’s no good wandering around in the woods forever.”

“What if he’s some sort of lunatic? What kind of a person goes around stealing people’s memories?” demanded Daisy.

“It’s probably where he gets all his magical powers from,” Donald advised, making some sort of mystical motion with his fingers for good measure. Daisy shuddered. 

“That’s terrible!”

“An’ it’s likely nonsense too,” Horace scoffed.

“It’s startin’ to get awful dark.  Let’s get some shut-eye,” Mickey suggested, ending the discussion decisively.  “...In the morning, or whenever it gets light in this crazy place, we’ll head on out and see about findin’ the Ghoul King's castle. There’s gotta be some answers out there somewhere.”

Since nobody had any better suggestions, Mickey’s plan was approved with little argument. Daisy thought they ought to have a campfire and Goofy did too, so a few minutes were spent gathering sticks and logs and kindling. Then there was a brief discussion regarding the best way to light a fire, right up until Mickey gave a wriggling and excited Pluto the wink to show off his big trick. A general commotion ensued for a few minutes over this, but at last, they all settled down around the fire, getting as comfortable as they could, using hats and coats as makeshift pillows or blankets.  Pluto curled himself up at Mickey’s feet and was asleep before all the rest of them. Mickey gave him a fond glance, then closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. It had been a long day, and he was certainly tired enough. Even so, Mickey quickly found that it was surprisingly difficult trying to get to sleep. He dozed for a few minutes, but then a pop and crackle of the logs roused him and after that he couldn’t seem to get sleepy again. Everyone else fell silent or started to snore, but Mickey just lay there. There was a lot on his mind. Suppose they couldn’t find the Ghoul King’s castle at all, or suppose they did find it and it all turned out to be some sort of a mess?  Or what if he really was awfully dangerous as Minnie had feared? 

Minnie… his thoughts drifted to her next, and stayed there for quite a while.  It was the first chance he’d really had to think about things since they’d met everyone else.

The honest truth was that he was disappointed.  Secretly, Mickey realized he’d been convinced ever since Minnie had mentioned the possibility, no matter how casually, that they had met before all this, that they knew each other somehow. Maybe even meant something to each other.  But Donald and Horace and the others had all recognized one another as soon as they met. And it certainly seemed like there hadn’t been a second of doubt for Daisy, whether Donald was hers or not. If he’d known Minnie before, he would’ve recognized her too, right?  If they’d meant anything to each other. But he couldn’t remember anything - only knew that his heart beat faster when he looked at her, his chest twisting with a strange sort of ache. 

Mickey sighed again, rolling over onto his side. Minnie lay a few feet away, and when he looked over at her, he was surprised to see her eyes were open, and she was looking back at him silently. Mickey flushed, a little embarrassed to have been caught looking her way at all, even if it really had been entirely innocent.

“Can’tcha sleep?” He whispered. She shook her head, and that’s when he noticed she was shivering. 

“Ya cold?” He didn’t even need to see her nodding to tell she was. Aw, geez, he should’ve known. Mickey lifted his head, but just like he suspected, the fire had died down to embers by now.  So he rolled his head towards Minnie again, thinking very carefully.

“D’ya think ya’d be any warmer if we … erm… scooched up a little?” He lifted his head again, already feeling guilty for the very suggestion. “Ain’t gotta, tho, I ken … look for some more logs or….”

He needn’t have bothered worrying about it. The words were barely out of his mouth before Minnie was sliding over to him, right up  _ against  _ him, and he felt her shudder as she tucked her cold little hands against his chest. G-gosh.

“Thank you, Mickey,” she said, very quietly, and he nodded. For a couple seconds, he just lay there like a fish waiting to be wrapped up in newspaper, his arms pressed to his sides like a stapled mummy because he didn’t know where to put them. He’d just convinced himself it was okay to let his arms touch hers if need be, when she spoke again, just barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Mickey…?”

“Yeah?” His hands hovered in midair; he was prepared to sever them for their presumption if she demanded it.

“...Do you think...after we find the Ghoul King… we can still be friends?”

His hands fell to rest on her without thinking.  He was so surprised for a moment, he didn’t have any idea what to say.  Finally, he managed to stammer out, “O-of course we can. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well... I was just thinking how… Daisy and Donald and everyone - they seem to know each other, and … but you and I … I guess we really must be strangers after all.”

The words so perfectly mirrored Mickey’s own private thoughts that his heart thumped, and he wondered if she could hear what he was thinking, read his mind or something like that.  Or maybe she just  _ knew _ what he was thinking, instinctively.  He gulped faintly.

“ … I guess so.  But … on the other hand, we still might remember somethin’ at any minute,” he murmured.  “An’ whether we knew each other before or not, that don’t mean we can’t still be friends, right?”

“Right.”  Minnie was quiet for a long moment.  “It’s just that… I sort of thought...m-maybe we did.  Know each other before. It was just a feeling, but … I guess it was sort of silly.  Wishful thinking or something like that. It felt less lonely that way, imagining we...well, you know.”

Mickey swallowed.  “ ...Y-yeah, sure. But we’re friends now - ain’t we?  So...that’s what really counts.”

“Mmhm.  I guess you’re right.”  He felt her take in a deep breath and let it out again.  When she spoke again, after another long pause, her voice was even softer than before.  “...You’re really warm….”

“Oh?  S-sorry.”

“No, I like it.”  She yawned. “...It’s much nicer this way.”

Mickey thought so too, but he was afraid to say it out loud.  His arm was sort of resting around her, however, and he stopped trying to figure out what to do with it and just left it there.  After a while, Minnie’s breathing got slower and he knew she was asleep too, nestled up against his side. She was right - it was nicer this way.

He thought about all of it - the Ghoul King, the curse, and Minnie - especially Minnie - until, finally, Mickey fell asleep too.


	4. The Graveyard

Captain Pete was no coward.  But he had faced enough adversaries to know when he was in any kind of danger, and he was getting that sense now.  The Master was angry, furious. Pete had stumbled right into it, had been summoned and had appeared without knowing why, and now he was forced to stand there and take the brunt of the Master’s anger, which had now been carrying on for several minutes, and was going up in temperature.

“Do you have any idea how long I have waited and planned for this moment?   _Do you?!_ ”  The Master had asked the same kind of question a moment before, but this time, he had risen up out of the throne too, and he seemed to grow larger with every word, as if his black cloak was soaking in the shadows around him and spreading out across the room.

Captain Pete was not accustomed to being on the receiving end of this kind of intimidation.  He took an involuntary step back.

“-And now that little whelp has gathered all his little friends around him and he’s practically at the castle gates.  And you’re standing here, letting him walk right in!”

“Er… I did send ‘em to different places,” Pete finally broke in.  “I can’t help it if they all run into each other somewheres else, can I?”

“Different - yes, so thoroughly seperated that they manage to bumble straight into each other practically within hours?!”  The figure on the throne sat back, then leaned forward again almost instantly, new frustrations striking him every few seconds like waves on the seashore.  “Did you think I wouldn’t find out you dumped almost the whole lot of them off _together_?  Idiot!  Bungler!”

Pete didn’t see how he could’ve possibly predicted all this, although he didn’t say so.  Why would a bunch of strangers become pals right off the bat like that, anyway? Pete certainly wouldn’t have done any such thing.  “Well, ya said I can’t kill ‘em - so whaddya want me to do about it?”

Even as the words came out of his mouth, he knew they were a mistake, but he couldn’t help feeling a little defensive.  If the Master had listened to him in the first place about just squashing them all flat, or turning them into puddles of sentient goo or anything like that, they wouldn’t be in this fix, now would they?  But the Master had insisted on doing things his own way, had blabbered on about all that magical this and that, and now they were here. Pete felt pretty ill-used, but that didn’t seem to assuage the Master’s anger; he was practically boiling over with it now.  In fact, for a moment, he was so angry that he couldn’t even speak, and then his voice rolled off the walls, echoing all across the castle.

“STOP HIM!”

Pete gave a little bow and then saw himself out of the throne room.  He could see that the interview was concluded.

 

~~~

 

_Stop fighting._

_You’ve already lost.  You know that, don’t you?_

 

_There’s not enough time.  Did you think I wouldn’t anticipate your every move?_

_You’ve become so weak._

 

_It’s too late._

 

Mickey blinked up at the sky, only there was no sky.  Where was he? Minnie was there, laying curled up on her stomach beside him, apparently fast asleep, but they weren’t on the ground out in the woods.  They were laying on something dark and soft, like black silk sheets, maybe. He couldn’t imagine why that could be, and in fact, Minnie was wearing a dress he didn’t recognize.  It must’ve been another dream, Mickey realized, but an especially vivid one. As he pondered what that could mean, Minnie stirred, then woke, and looked over at him.

“Hi,” she said, in a quiet, sleepy voice.  Mickey studied her face.

“Hi,” he answered.  It was his voice, Mickey knew that, but he didn’t seem to be saying the words.  It was like watching himself from the outside. He seemed to stretch out his hand then to stroke her cheek, and she closed her eyes for a moment to savor the touch.

“Are you okay?” she asked then, opening her eyes again suddenly to look at him.  “...I’m so afraid.”

He withdrew his hand slowly.  “...This is all my fault. I should’ve protected you.  I shoulda known - I should’ve been stronger.”

“Don’t say that, Mickey - please, don’t.”  She dove toward him, buried her face against his shoulder.  He put his arms around her, feeling his chest twist painfully.

“...Ya...ya won’t stop lovin’ me...will you?”  His voice was timid - almost childlike. Frightened.  She shook her head emphatically at once.

“Oh, darling, of course not.  Never! No matter what happens.”

He was still clinging to her when it all dissolved into grey mist.

 

Mickey woke up in a cold sweat.  He knew, in the way one always knows, that he was really awake this time, and if he’d had lingering doubts, the ache in his back from sleeping on the ground would’ve settled them quickly.  This time, however, the dream he’d had was fresh in his mind. Cripes, was he really crazy, or just some kind of weirdo? He went to wipe his hand over his eyes, and in doing so, he realized fully for the first time that Minnie, the real Minnie, was actually asleep on his chest almost like the Minnie in his dream had been.  He flushed, but didn’t try to move for a moment, calculating.

All right, so maybe that was why he’d had such a strange dream in the first place, right?  Some subconscious type of thing? But it had all been so real; he could still feel the heaviness of that despair sitting in his chest, like they really were racing against some nameless horror.

Minnie stirred, and he suddenly remembered that everyone else would be waking up soon too.  He should’ve been more ashamed now than ever, but he wasn’t. He didn’t want Minnie to feel embarrassed, though, so before Donald or somebody could notice and make some sort of a thing about it, he took her shoulders and squeezed them gently.

“Hey...Min?”

She took a deep breath and sighed, and then after a little pause, she lifted her head a fraction.  “Hmm?”

It was the same sleepy little tone from his dream - but Mickey tried not to think about that too much.  Instead, he just looked down at her, knowing his chin was squished up against his chest and unable to care much.  “It’s mornin’, I think.”

“Oh.”  She lay against him for a moment more, long enough for Mickey to own privately to himself that it wouldn’t be a bad way to wake up all the time, if circumstances were a little different, and then she stretched with a little squeak, rising to sit up.  “Mmm… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to crowd you so much,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“Th-that’s okay.  I don’t mind,” he managed to reply.

By now, the others seemed to be waking up too, including Pluto, who stretched himself into a truly ridiculous shape before smacking his lips and offering Mickey a drowsy little grin.  He scratched his ears.

“Sure wish I had a whole stack of pancakes fer breakfast,” said Goofy, slumped cross-legged in a heap.

“Wish I had waffles an’ orange juice,” offered Donald.  But there were no pancakes or waffles, so Mickey distributed the last of the food the professor had sent along with them, and they had to make do with that.  With the fire out, there wasn’t much else left to do but get up and start moving, so that’s what they did, even if nobody could be sure they were going in the right direction.  But the needle on Goofy’s compass was still holding steady this morning too, and they could hardly be more or less lost, so off they went.

 

~~~

 

Pete stepped in something that squelched and made a face. He hated the dark forest, but then he hated the rocky cliffs beyond it too, hated the swamp and especially the shores of the Haunted Sea. The wilderness was okay, and further up the coast, but mostly this was because a fella could mind his own business there, and also could break into the ancient crypts with relative impunity.

Even now, Pete wondered sometimes if he hadn’t made a blunder in this new alliance. He’d been convinced at the time, and was still trying to convince himself now, that the Ghoul King was a powerful ally to have, particularly when said king would display a willingness to turn a blind eye towards Pete’s interactions with the common folk. But so far, Pete found himself saddled with all the irritations of such a connection while enjoying few of the benefits. Like now, for example, when he was sloshing through the soggiest part of the woods, batting away mosquitoes and _bats_ , themselves, for that matter, chasing that dumb little mouse and his friends all over creation . At least it would be nice to have _him_ out of the way.  But he wasn’t out of the way, was he, not really. Not until after the moon was full. It would’ve been so much easier just to kill him. Pete had never actually tried, not yet, but how hard could it be? A little shrimp like that? Especially if, as his new master had assured him, the runt didn’t have any special powers anymore. Why, you could just take him in your two hands and bam! No more mousy. Pete smiled at the thought. Oh, well, too bad. He would just have to suffer the master’s gibberish a little longer.

Pete came to a stop at last, looking up at a particularly tall, gnarled oak tree. There were indistinct shadows flickering in and out of sight among the branches. Perfect. They must be getting close to the Court of Souls by now. Well, that was as far as they were gonna get. Pete withdrew a glass orb from his pocket and looked at it ruefully. He was all for a bit of sneakiness, but the master was honestly no fun at all. Where was the joy in going completely undetected? You only wanted to stay hidden long enough for the fireworks to start, so you could show up to watch them; and laugh about it, preferably. Oh, well. Pete turned his palm and let the orb drop to the ground, shattering among the leaves. Within a few seconds, thick rolls of grey fog began to bubble up from where it had fallen. The wind caught it and carried it through the trees, where it seemed to stick and settle everywhere.

There. Just as the master wanted. “Heh heh! Let them try and find their way in _that_.” He muttered to himself aloud. And, Pete thought with a touch of cheer, with any luck, the spirits or creatures would take care of the rest.

 

~~~

 

As Mickey and his fellow travelers made their way through the forest, the light around them seemed to change many times.  Now, the sky would appear a deep orange, a little later, vivid purple clouds would roll in for a while, and when they cleared, the forest would be bathed in a green glow instead.  The wind seemed equally unsure of itself, shifting direction frequently, sending dead leaves spiraling from the trees and up from where they rested on the ground in little soft cyclones.  There was a restless sensation everywhere, not just among the wanderers. It was in the air.

The sky had turned a cool blue-green and the shadows were deepening under a heavy cover of clouds once more when the fog started to roll in. It was just a faint mist at first, but as they went on, it got thicker and thicker, until even walking almost shoulder-to-shoulder, they could scarcely keep track of each other’s forms.

Mickey was starting to wonder if it would be better to turn back, compass or no compass, or else all link hands together, which he doubted would be popular, (except with Minnie) when they came at last upon a wide hollow which was shrouded in mist.  The ground before them was littered with broken slabs of stone, some mostly intact, others smashed all to pieces. A few larger structures stood quietly a little further down the path as well, shrouded in the fog, although they were hardly in any better shape when you got close to them.

“This place looks like a cemetary,” Donald noted, poking suspiciously at a jagged-looking piece of stone with his foot. “What you can see if it, anyways. This fog is awful.”

“Probably is,” Goofy observed with a shrug.  “Some sorta ol’ graveyard or somethin’ like that.  Looks pretty deserted.”

“Graveyards aren’t really known for their wild parties, are they?” noted Daisy, a little sarcastically.  “At least I should _hope_ not .”

“But it don’t even look like anybody’s been buried here for an awful long while,” agreed Horace, pointing to a row of what could’ve been tombstones, overgrown and half-covered with ivy.

“Swell.  A creepy old graveyard, that’s just great.”

“Relax.  I’d rather walk through a cemetery than run into any more weird creatures.”

Mickey shrugged, having no strong feelings about that one way or the other - which was perhaps surprising in itself - but he did glance over to make sure Minnie was right beside him, and as seemed to happen so easily of late, she was, and looking back at him too, as if waiting for reassurance.  He gave her a faint smile. “Well, I ain’t too scared of any old cemetery. We’ve seen spookier stuff than that anyhow.” But he didn’t take a step forward for a few more seconds, and it was a little bit of a struggle when he did take it.

Nobody felt much like talking as they moved into the graveyard, and even when somebody did, the mist seemed to absorb the sound, leaving everything feeling muffled and dead.  Er, poor choice of words, perhaps. It got thicker as they went, too, until you could only see the broken stones and silent mausoleums when they were a few yards away. Currents of wind would rise up out of nowhere now, the leaves carried in them flying out of the fog with such little warning that you might not have time to duck out of the way, so that they brushed against your face, cold and shivery.  The group found themselves huddling closer and closer together, and even Pluto, who could be so fearless, walked very close to Mickey’s leg, giving a faint little whimper every now and then, his sensitive ears twisting and turning as if he was hearing something the rest of them did not.

And then they did.  Everyone stopped almost simultaneously.  Nobody asked why they were stopping.

“Did you hear something?” Donald almost whispered.  Daisy clung to his sleeve and Goofy looked as though he would’ve liked to do the same.

“L- like what?” Mickey asked, even though he knew perfectly well what.  He could hear it too: a soft, low moan. It rose and fell slowly, and he could feel his spine tingle.

“It’s...probably just the wind - isn’t it?” Minnie suggested hopefully.  Mickey swallowed hard.

“Yeah...y-yeah.  Sure it is. Probably the wind.  Ha! W-what else would it be?” But nobody answered him and he wished he hadn’t asked the question, even rhetorically.  Mickey started forward again, and the others followed, having little choice.

“I wish it wasn’t so dark,” Daisy lamented.

Clarabelle glanced at Horace, then went to cling onto his arm like Daisy was doing to Donald’s.  Of course, her grip was probably three times as tight, and he gasped visibly as her fingers squeezed him.  “I wish it wasn’t so darn _creepy._ ”

Donald laughed, although it didn’t quite sound like his heart was in it.  “You’re not some sort of scaredycat, are you?”

“I s’pose _you’re_ not afraid of anythin’, is that right?” Horace suggested a little peevishly, trying to work a finger into Clarabelle’s hold to loosen it a bit.

“Me?  Of course I’m not.”  Donald puffed himself up a bit.  Pluto gave a little incredulous sneeze and Mickey nodded in agreement.

“Sure, sure,” he shrugged his shoulders breezily.  “What’s th’worst that ken happen, anyway? Monsters?  Ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” Donald’s eyes went wide, but he recovered quickly, offering a rusty laugh.  “Don’t be silly. I ain’t afraid of any of that stuff.”

“No?”  Minnie and Pluto exchanged a look, but Donald took no notice.

“ Not me.  I’d like t’see ‘em try somethin’, anyhow.  There ain’t a spook alive that ken … make … me….”  He trailed off, brow furrowing. “Why in the heck is it so dark around here?”  He waved a hand in front of his face, neatly changing the subject. “This fog is thicker than pea soup.  Goofy, are we still walkin’ the right way?”

“I’ll look.”  Goofy lifted the compass up to his face and got quiet for a minute.  “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh?”  Daisy whipped her head around.  “What do you mean, ‘uh oh’?”

Goofy held out the compass.  “Look for yerself. Th’needle’s jumpin’ around again.”  And it was, even more wildly than before, spinning in circles and darting back and forth.

Mickey gulped.  “M-Minnie…?” he suggested, and Minnie was already taking the hint, stepping forward to hold the gem in her necklace over the compass.  But this time, nothing happened. No light, no pulse, no nothing. She looked back up at him, crestfallen.

“That ain’t good,” said Horace in a low voice.

“Aw, it’s all right - it’s prob’ly just the fog, it’s … damp , y’know,” Mickey said quickly, giving Minnie what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He hoped nobody would ask him what the damp had to do with anything, because he’d made that up on the spot.

Everyone stood in silence for a long moment.  Donald was right: it was darker than ever, and the mist had grown so heavy, you could hardly see your hand in front of your face.  That moaning was still audible, and even seemed louder. What’s more, the wind must’ve been playing other tricks on them too, because in addition to the thick solid mass of fog before them, there were pale, shimmering tendrils of it moving around them as well, circling slowly, winking in and out of view among the tombstones.  Mickey shivered. Gosh. If you stared at them too long … they almost seemed to take on shape. Then, suddenly, there was no mistaking it. They did have a shape, distinctly, faintly human, shrouded figures. Almost as if … they ...were….

Mickey pressed his mouth into a hard line.  No. It couldn’t be. But he drew in a sharp breath, looking at Minnie.  She was looking back at him, her brown eyes looking enormous in the dark.  The moaning was much louder now.

Goofy took a step back, preferring to stay as close to the pack as possible.  But something touched his back.

“...Issat you, Donald?” he whispered.  He knew, right down to his bones, it was not.  He turned his head slowly. There was a face there, sure enough, but it wasn’t Donald’s.  It would’ve been a pretty inoffensive face too, except for the fact that he could see right through it.  It was entirely too much for Goofy. He burst into a panicked stammer that rose at last into one single terrified shout.

“ _G-g-g-g-GHOSTS!_ ”

The effect on the party was dramatic and immediate. Donald leaped a foot off the ground and started swinging at them. Horace did not jump at all, but began throwing blind punches, nearly catching Goofy in the jaw. Daisy gave a high-pitched scream and Clarabelle a low fearful moan, so that between the two of them, it made a more ghostly sound than a ghost itself could make. Goofy did none of these things, just went white as a sheet and stiffened up so that he looked even longer and lankier than ever before. As for the two mice, Minnie went pale, but she didn’t scream. Mickey wasn’t even aware of reaching for her hand until she met him halfway and he closed his fingers over hers with the sensation of being totally prepared to clobber anything, ghost or not, with the other hand all alone.

“N-now - just stay calm, everybody,” said Mickey - or rather, squeaked Mickey, because somehow, when his voice came out, it was even higher-pitched than usual, and broke right in the middle of the word ‘calm’.  Calm, yeah, that was it. So long as nobody lost their heads -

“YeeOOWW it’s _on_ me!” shrieked Goofy, a powerful shudder running through him from head to toe as one of the wraithlike creatures passed so close that its trailing garments brushed his arm.  He began flailing wildly to brush it away, but his hands went right through it, terrifying him further.

It was too much for Clarabelle.  With a cry, she pushed forward through the cloud and bolted for the trees.  “Let’s get outta here!”

“Clarabelle, wait!”  Horace ran after her.  Meanwhile, Donald was still trying to box the ghosts, and was naturally making no progress, except to stir them up.  The more he tried to shake them off, the more densely they clustered around him, until, frightened, Daisy began trying to drag him away.

“Stop it, Donald!  For goodness’ sake!”

“I’ll save ya, Daisy!” was his cry in response, even as a wild punch almost caught her by mistake.  Luckily, she ducked in time, but now they were fleeing too, swatting away ghosts like mosquitoes. Goofy had seen fit to try and climb a tree, apparently convinced that the ghosts wouldn’t be able to float up that high, and in all the commotion, Mickey lost his grip on Minnie’s hand.  He spun around at once to find her, but the fog was so thick that he couldn’t see her clearly.

“Mickey!” he heard her cry from somewhere, and he turned that direction.

“Min!  Minnie!”  He caught a glimpse of her dress - or he thought it was her dress - and lunged after her, but it was just a fluttering leaf caught on one of the tombstones.  He pushed away, spinning back the way he’d come, but - but was that the way he’d come? He could still hear a faint commotion, the voices of his friends yelling six things at once, but when he walked toward them, they only sounded more and more distant.

There was a little flutter of panic in his chest now, and Mickey fought to keep it down.  His friends couldn’t be far away, not so quickly - it was just the fog, that’s all. It was disorienting, getting everybody turned around.  If he just calmed down, stood still for a minute, he could get his bearings. And those ghosts from before - well, what were a few ghosts, after everything they’d seen so far?  They’d escaped everything else, they’d just march right out of the old cemetery and the ghosts would have to stay behind, that was all.

.. _.If_ they could find their way out again.

“Minnie!” he shouted, feeling that wave of panic splash against his ribs.  He broke into a run, only stopping when it became suddenly clear to him that absolutely nothing looked familiar.  He couldn’t hear his friends’ voices anymore. “Minnie! Pluto! Donald, Goofy! Where are ya? Can ya hear me? Where… where….”  His voice cracked, dropping to a whisper. “... where am _I_?”

 

~~~

 

“Derned silly, that’s all it is.   I tell ya we’re lost.”

Horace shot an accusatory look in Clarabelle’s direction.  She was the one, after all, who’d seen fit to go tearing off into the woods.  But Clarabelle glared right back at him. “Now don’t you start with me, Horace Horsecollar - I’m not about to stand around and let a whole flock of ghosts go haunting on me for you or anybody.  Oh, this is just terrible! Who would’ve ever thought something like this could happen to respectable people like us?” Clarabelle picked up her skirts as they caught on a low branch, shaking her head in despair.  Horace stomped the branch onto the ground so it couldn’t tangle her up again.

“Ain’t at all plain t’me what bein’ respectable has to do with it,” he remarked mercilessly.  “It’s plum-foolery is all it is ain’t that don’t touch on bein’ respectable or not.”

Clarabelle accepted his hand to step over a fallen log, although she was a little resentful about it.  “I’m not a plum-fool. It wasn’t any idea of mine to go tromping all over creation in the first place.”

“Who’s to say it weren’t?” challenged Horace, who was feeling pretty irritable over all the confusion, and a little embarrassed over his own panic, which had seen him fleeing into the woods about as fast as anyone else, truth be told.  “Who’s to say? Mebbe ya done it on purpose and you just forgot about it.”

“Why!  Horace Horsecollar, are you callin’ me a plum-fool AND a liar?”

“Mebbe I _am_ an’ mebbe I ain’t.”

“Oh!”  Clarabelle yanked her hand out from his.  “You mean old buzzard! I oughta teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget!”  Eyes blazing, she looked on the verge of doing just that, when something stopped her.  Horace’s jaw was jutting out at a preposterous angle, but he stopped too.

“Whatsa matter with you?”

Clarabelle wilted like a fallen souffle.  “Oh...Horace...what if you do forget it? What if you forget me?”  Her mouth was trembling suddenly and Horace was alarmed.

“What?  What’re you on about now, woman?”

Clarabelle fished in her pocket for a hanky.  She was not crying, but she felt as though she might like to, and wanted to be prepared, so she just bit on it instead.  “When we were first in th’forest, I couldn’t remember your face, Horace! Yer dear sweet homely face that I oughta know as well as I know anything.”

“Hey, now just a minute -”

“I can’t even remember how we met!” she wailed, ignoring him entirely.  “What a precious memory it must be, I ken feel that much - but it’s all gone - gone!  Oh, Horace - !”

She plowed her head into his shoulder with a force that made him grunt, sending up a noise that, frankly, more than outmatched any sound the ghosts could’ve made.  Horace had to perform a little dance to keep his balance, but when he had it, he gave a heavy sigh, patting her head.

“...There, there, now.  Quit that cryin’.” He glanced around, and whether he was checking for ghosts or mortal observers was anybody’s guess.  “...Nobody’s gonna go stealin’ any more memories, I’ll see t’that. We’ll get ‘em all back an’ then ya won’t have any reason for carryin’ on so.  You’ll see.”

Clarabelle raised her head again at last, eyes glistening.  “You really mean that?”

“A’course I do.  Said so, didn’t I?  We’ll put it to rights, mark my words.”

“Oh, Horace!”  She threw her arms around his neck and, as humiliating a spectacle as it was, Horace could just bear it, so long as nobody was watching.

 

~~~

 

“Well this is just peachy.”  Daisy was walking close behind Donald now, carefully pulling burrs from his feathers and coat.  His heroic attempt to personally fight every ghost in the cemetery had ended pretty abruptly when he’d gone barreling into the woods, swinging at anything that moved, and tumbled headfirst into a sticker bush.  Daisy had held back her laughter when he emerged looking like a topographical relief map of the world, but only barely, and Donald was pretty resentful about it, particularly in few of his heroism. She was just ungrateful, in his view.

“I can’t help it if those ol’ bedsheets hightailed it as soon as they saw me coming, can I?  If everybody’d just followed my lead, we wouldn’t have gotten split up.”

“If we’d all followed your lead, then we’d all be pulling burrs out of our teeth too.  Face it, Donald, we’re _lost_ again.”

“Oh yeah?  Oh yeah?” Donald whipped around, exploding.  “I’m not lost! I haven’t been lost this whole time!”  He stomped a foot, then both at once, flinging his arms out to drive the point home.  “It’s everybody else who’s lost!”

“Stop that!  You’re acting like a child,” Daisy snapped.

“Oh _yeah?!_ ”  He had half a mind to show her just how childlike he could act - give her a _real_ tantrum if that’s what she wanted to see - but before he could work up the momentum, Daisy reached out and neatly pinched his beak shut.

For a second, he just stood there, flabbergasted, then he moved every part of his body except his beak as a protest, until Daisy shot him a look that even Donald recognized as being significant.  He stopped, breathing hard. She released him. “There now, you just simmer down. Donald, do you realize how serious this situation is?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling a little overheated and annoyed, but less at Daisy and the whole world.  “It’s not as bad as all that - the others can’t have gotten far.”

“I don’t mean just that - I mean all of this.”  She turned to walk a few paces away, hugging herself.  “...Mickey seems so sure this Ghoul King person is the answer to all this, but how do we know that’s true?”

“You don’t think he’s lying, do you?”  Donald didn’t much like that idea. Sure, Mickey was too chipper by far, especially for a guy who’s lost his memories, but there was something about him Donald couldn’t help liking, at least enough to take him at his word.  But Daisy shook her head.

“No, I don’t mean that.  Only what if we do find this Ghoul King and things just get worse than before?  Or what if he’s more dangerous than we thought? He could be a murderer for all we know, with a name like that.”

“Well if he wanted us murdered, he shoulda thought of that in the first place.”

“I guess so.”

Donald took her hand now and turned her around.  “Look, you can count on me. I’ll get us out of this fix, just see if I don’t.  I’ll beat some answers outta the Ghoul King with my bare hands if I’ve got to.”

“Is that so?”  Daisy’s beak twitched.  “Just like you did with the ghosts?”

“Well, sure, I - hey.”  His eyes narrowed, sensing disrespect.  But Daisy was squinting in an amused sort of way, and she didn’t give him time to get upset about it.  Instead, she shook her head and leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You know, I can’t remember very much about anything, but I remember what a pain in the tailfeathers you are.   _That’s_ coming through loud and clear!”

Donald shivered faintly, squinting one eye shut, even as he took her by the waist.  “Oh yeah? Well, I remember that you never stop nagging me and won’t ever leave me alone.  Even if I can’t think of all the stuff you complain about, I’m sure it’ll come back to me.”

“I hope it does!  Maybe it’ll really stick this time.”  She tapped on the side of his head. “Assuming you didn’t just forget it all on _purpose_.”

He scoffed.  “No such luck.”

They walked on again, and Daisy went back to pulling burrs off his coat, but this time, Donald didn’t seem to mind so much.

 

~~~

 

It was really through no fault of his own, Goofy ended up being the odd man out, having failed to scale a tree like he’d planned, and settling at last for jumping headfirst into the bushes. And now here he was, separated from his friends with nobody to commiserate with.

But that was only half true.  Pluto had jumped in after him, and stuck beside him now, faithful as ever, even though, as soon as it became clear that he had lost track of Mickey, he put his nose to the ground, trying to pick up his track.  He’d had no luck so far, but Pluto hadn’t given up and neither had Goofy, and he gave the pup’s ears a comforting pat. Goofy liked dogs, always had so far as he knew - which admittedly wasn’t too far these days - but he had an idea that he’d always felt a sort of kinship with them.  Friendly creatures who were ready to like anybody who was decent and wanted nothing to do with folks who weren’t. That was pretty straightforward, and Goofy was too.

“Don’t worry, Pluto - we’ll find Mickey an’ the others any minute.  We can’t have gotten too far, even with those ghosts b’hind us.” Pluto lifted his head long enough to give a sniffling sound which seemed to Goofy to indicate gratitude and solidarity.  He grinned. “That’s th’spirit! Say, I guess you must be a long way from home too, huh?” When Pluto barked back a reply, Goofy shook his head. An overhanging branch from a nearby tree hooked in the back of his jacket and almost lifted him off his feet as he walked forward, but Pluto caught sight of it and hastily darted in front, forcing Goofy to take a step back.  The branch let go, but Goofy didn’t notice any of it. “Whoops! Pardon me!” He walked on, cheerfully oblivious. “Gawrsh, this all must seem pretty crazy to a dog - all this stuff about the Ghoul King.”

Pluto’s ears picked up and he barked, then he barked again, running around in a little circle, scratching at the ground.  He had a lot to say about the Ghoul King, or so it seemed to Goofy, but - he shook his head sadly - he just didn’t speak sufficient dog to make sense of it.

“Aw, don’t take it so hard.  We won’t let him do nobody any harm.”  He gave Pluto another pat, and continued on.  Pluto sat where he was a moment, watching Goofy go.  He let out a low whimper, but of course, feeling sorry for himself wouldn’t do any good.  He got up and trotted along, putting his nose to the ground once again.

“Y’know,” Goofy said after they’d walked on a little, placing his feet carefully to avoid crushing a couple new little ferns growing up between the fallen leaves, “I just can’t understand how it is I remember some things so clear and not other things.  Like Mickey! I’m sure I oughta know him, but I just can’t think of how. I remembered Donald and Horace tho. Whaddya suppose that means?”

Pluto supplied another unhappy wuff, but couldn’t help Goofy’s memory more than that.  He shook his head. “It’s just the darndest thing.”

Pluto didn’t really disagree, but he couldn’t chime in, either.  Anyway, something more important caught his attention at that moment, and he lifted his head, standing perfectly still for a moment, before bounding forward, sounding off loudly.  Goofy jumped, but hurried to follow. “What is it, pal? Whatcha smell?” He raced off after the golden pup.

 

~~~

 

Mickey crept forward through the fog.  The air was so quiet and still here that it almost felt like he was underwater.  But maybe that was a good thing; surely, he would be able to hear if Minnie or someone was close by - wouldn’t he?  And indeed, it did feel like someone was close by, only… not someone _human_.

Something cold touched his face.  A hand, only it wasn’t a living one.  Mickey froze, unsure if he should run or if it would do any good, and while he hesitated, he caught sight of it, more clearly than he ever had up to now.  He was conscious of a curious feeling; he knew he ought to feel that same bolt of panic, but he didn’t. Instead, he just stood there, studying the spirit which drifted into view in front of him.  It was translucent; he could see through it to the nearest gravestones on the other side, but from up close, it seemed less like mist and more as something carved from glass, blue-green and insubstantial, light reflecting off it in trembling prisms.  It was humanlike in shape, but hooded, its features hidden other than a faint glow where he imagined its eyes must be. He could feel rather than clearly see, that it was looking right at him. And it wasn’t alone - there were others. Many others. What had he wandered into?  Mickey took a step back, but fingers touched his shoulder, and he knew there were more.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t run away yet.  Was it too late to run at all? They were all around him now, too many to count, their forms indistinct as mist and yet so real that he could feel their fingers brushing against him, feel the cold tendrils of their clothes, or whatever it was that shrouded them, could almost feel the emptiness that filled the air where there should’ve living breath, but never would be again.  Mickey stood still, unsure whether to turn back or run or fight. His heart was pounding so hard he felt sick, but he couldn’t move. And he could hear them still, could hear the moans and screams, miles away and yet whispering in his ears.

But it was very strange.  The more he listened, the more it seemed to weave together into one voice, a song without words, yet one that was meant for him.

_...Can hear us, can’t you?  We’ve been calling you, you know._

_Why didn’t you answer?_

His hands, clenched at first by his sides, slowly relaxed. Why… why was he afraid before? Suddenly, Mickey couldn’t quite remember why he’d wanted to run away. He didn’t want to run anymore. The wind, the spirits, they were… they were calling to _him._ He wanted to listen to them, hear what they had to tell him.  He felt almost…warm. Safe. His heart had raced so fast before, but now he felt ...peaceful.  

At home.

_....We’ve missed you.  We’ve been worried about you.  What are you doing so far from home?_

_We can help you._

“You can?” Mickey answered quietly.  The next moment, he wasn’t even sure if he’d spoken out loud or not, but the ghosts heard him anyway.

_Follow us.  We’ll show you.  We’ll help you._

Of course.  Why wouldn’t he follow them?  They wanted to help him. It was the most obvious thing in the world.  He’d been ridiculous before, absurd. How could he have been afraid of them at all?  They were his friends, had always been his friends. Mickey let them draw him forward, hands brushing his back, his shoulders, his ears, curiously and harmlessly.

“Where are we goin’?” he asked innocently.  He wasn’t apprehensive, had no reason to be, it was just interesting.

_Somewhere safe.  Somewhere good._

That sounded fine to Mickey.  He trotted along right in the middle of a little swarm of them.  It was almost like music, their voices. Voice. Whatever it was. A song meant just for him to hear.

_Good._

_Good._  

_We’ll take care of you…._


	5. The Witch

Cold hands prodded Mickey gently along.  He didn’t mind that. Not a bit! In fact, he was grateful.  They were his friends, the spirits. And they spoke to him still, whispered things in his ears in a language he knew, understood even though it was wordless.  An ancient language that belonged to the spirits alone. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. 

And yet...how odd.  Mickey tilted his head curiously.  There was another voice too, as familiar to him as the ghostly song.  It was very far away, but he slowed a moment.

_           Don’t stop.  Come with us.  Don’t stop. _

“Okay,” Mickey agreed guilelessly.  A touch on his back guided him further, a tug on his hand.  His friends knew what to do. They sang to him and told him good things, and he liked that.

Even so, he couldn’t help pausing again after another few steps.  The voice was closer to him now, he was sure of it. But whose voice was it?  It was calling his name. “Who is that?” he asked his friends.

_               Don’t stop. _

_                                We’ll protect you. _

Mickey wanted his friends to protect him, but he felt a little disappointed.  He wished they’d tell him who was calling him. He wanted to know. He could hear the voice again, very faintly.  He could just barely make out what it said. 

_ “Mickey!  Answer me!  Please!” _

Mickey blinked, frowning a little.  “Wait,” he mumbled, even though he didn’t stop walking.  “Wait, I ... I can’t go. I can’t leave ….”

Couldn’t leave what?  The voice was urgent - frightened.  Mickey stopped for the third time. The hands pulled at him again, but this time, he resisted.  Couldn’t leave what? He strained to find the words. “...I can’t leave. My… friends….” 

_ “Please, say something!” _

Say something!  You don’t have power over me, I have power over  _ you! _

“I can’t leave  _ Minnie  _ behind!” he blurted.

The world seemed to jolt, like the ground was flying up to meet his feet.  The next thing he knew was Minnie holding onto him,  _ holding him _ , her arms wound tightly around him.  “Mickey!  _ Mickey! _ ”

She sounded afraid.  It was  _ her _ voice that had called to him.  How could she have been so close all the time without his realizing it?  He took her shoulders, watched as her head jerked up, saw her scared eyes staring back at him.  “Wh...what’s wrong? What’s th’matter, Min? Hey…” He felt her whole body slump a little as she let out a gasping breath.  In fact, her chest was heaving. Had she been running….? They stared at each other a moment before she pulled him back into a tight hug, her cold cheek pressed close to his.  

“Oh, Mickey -” her words poured out in a rush.  “I was calling and calling but you wouldn’t answer me, you wouldn’t even turn around - and then - and then when I reached you just now - you looked so strange for a minute - you looked right through me like I wasn’t even there!” She looked up at him again, was almost in tears. “You looked like you were a million miles away, I thought - I thought - ”

“I did?” Mickey frowned.  He felt sluggish and stupid.  “But I -” He paused, looking around.  Where had the ghosts gone? He remembered them being there, surrounding him on every side, but now the fog was clearing again and there was no sign of them anywhere, only the quiet tombstones and pillars and crypts, ivy and trees beyond that.  Then he heard it again, the song from before. Minnie could hear it too, he realized, because she tensed, head turning faintly. Then her mouth pressed shut, and she tugged at him insistently.

“...Don’t listen to it, Mickey, please don’t. Don’t leave me again.”

“W-why would I leave you?”  He looked up, watching as they appeared again, but only faintly, mistlike figures drifted in and out of sight amongst the trees.  “It’s just - the ghosts, they - ...they were talkin’ to me. Asking me to follow them. I dunno where to, but…” He frowned. The words started to sound strange to him, even though it had made so much sense just a moment ago.  “They said it was somewhere safe.”

“I know.”  She had to fight the urge to cling to him like a child.  “I can hear it too - now. I want to get closer- go to them.  _ That’s  _ what frightens me.”  She shot a look up into the trees, where the spirits lingered, watching them.  “Mickey, let’s go find the others. Please?” She saw his gaze turn to follow the spirits through the trees and her hands tightened on his coat.  “Mickey -  _ please _ -”

He forced himself to look away from them with some effort.  “Huh? Oh - yeah...yeah.” He looked at her, felt her cold hands clinging to him.  She really was afraid, wasn’t she? For him…?

Suddenly, he felt like his head was clearing up, like a light was coming on.  He winced, shaking his head hard. What had gotten into him for a minute? Ghosts?  Somewhere safe? He shivered, even though he wasn’t cold, and put an arm around Minnie’s shoulders, pulled her against his side.  “...Let’s get outta here,” he said, much more firmly this time, turning them both to leave with such haste that he didn’t even catch the sheer relief that flooded her brown eyes.  The song still echoed around them, more mournful than ever, but he tried to ignore it. Those spirits must’ve done something to him . Cripes, and he’d just let them do it! What was he, some kind of a sucker?  Was he really gonna let those spirits lead him off who-knows-where? They might’ve been leading him straight off a cliff, who knew? And if Minnie hadn’t come along when she did, hadn’t been looking out for him….  He looked down at her. She had been chasing after him and he hadn’t even noticed. Wasn’t he supposed to be protecting her, not the other way around? Wasn’t that the deal he’d made with himself? 

Mickey was still digesting all this when another thought occurred to him and he turned to Minnie in alarm.  “Say - them ghosts weren’t harrassin’  _ you _ , were they?  I-it ain’t so bad if they were comin’ after me, but are you okay, Minnie?  Gosh, ya must’ve been scared, too, wanderin’ around all by yerself. I didn’t mean t’leave ya alone, honest - one second you were right there b’side me an’ the next, I was -”  He broke into a stammer, and without quite thinking about he, he ran a hand across her cheek, just to make sure she was warm and whole and safe, retracting it quickly when he realized what he was doing.  “...I was outta my mind, is what I was. ...I’m sorry, Min,” he concluded at last. 

“Aw, Mickey.”  She brushed a finger across his lips with an affectionate little shake of her head.  That shut him up quick. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s. We all lost our heads for a second.  I’m just glad …” She squirmed again, eyes darting down to her feet for a second. “...I’m just glad you’re okay.”  

“Yeah.  Thanks to you.”  He tucked his chin to his chest.  “...Whatever those ghosts did ta me, I...I never even saw it comin’.  I dunno what I woulda done - if it hadn’t been for you.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and he took her hands in his.  “...You saved me, Minnie,” he added, very quietly. Minnie’s eyes went wide for a moment, then she looked down too. Mickey wondered if she was blushing, but it could’ve been a trick of the light.

“Oh, I...I didn’t really do anything special, I just...I was just worried about you, that’s all.    S-so...w-well, anyway,” she murmured, shaking her head. She  _ was  _ blushing, he was almost sure of it.  “It’ll be all right now - won’t it? So long as we’re together, I feel much safer.  Don’t you?” She smiled at him hopefully and Mickey had to admit that he  _ did  _ feel a lot safer all of a sudden. 

He didn’t even notice they were still holding onto each other’s hands.

 

~~~

 

By this time, it was clear that Pluto had taken the lead. His nose was hard to the ground now, as Goofy followed close behind, bent almost in half as they crept along. There was no real reason for this; he couldn’t smell a thing, but it seemed the proper thing to do.

“We’ve gotta be gettin’ close now,” he supposed. Pluto was too busy sniffling to respond, but he felt the same way. It was confusing, though. One minute, he’d be sure he’d picked up Mickey’s scent, the next it would go away again, or he’d smell it somewhere different. And there were other smells too, old smells. Some of them were good, but others prickled his nose. He stopped to investigate a big oak tree for a moment and got a little distracted.

“Sure wish my compass would settle down.  I can’t make heads or tails of it.” Goofy pulled the compass from his pocket to check again, but it was still no use.  The needle was darting wildly around like it had before Minnie had done whatever she’d done to calm it down. He angled it to one side, then the other, as though this might help.  And for a moment, the needle actually did calm down, although it seemed to be pointing straight up, which was less than promising.

Pluto had, by this time, made a complete circuit of the tree and returned to the point where he’d started.  It was a really excellent tree, but he hadn’t learned much else, and feeling a little guilty for shirking his duty, which was to find Mickey, he set about this goal again in earnest.  He’d only gone another couple steps when he nosed up against something cold and sneezed, rearing back into Goofy’s legs. He looked up from his compass. “What is it, boy? Didja find somethin -”

He stopped short.  A misty form stood before them, long pale fingers reaching out in their direction.  Pluto went stiff from his nose to the tip of his tail as those fingers slowly descended and touched his head, icy cold and insubstantial, but far, far too real for comfort.  A low, tragic voice drifted over them, as if carried by the wind itself.

_                      Nice… doggie…. _

They didn’t wait to hear more.  With a hollar, the pair of them leapt into the bushes and ran, leaving the ghost where it was.

 

~~~

 

“Donald.  Stop, Donald.  Donald, I think we’re really lost.”  Daisy tugged on his hand. “Donald, are you listening to me?!”

“Yes,” said Donald, which was a half-truth at best.  He was listening, but only because he couldn’t help it, and all the while he was trying his hardest not to hear her at all.  It wasn’t that he thought she was wrong; to the contrary, each passing moment only convinced him of Daisy’s point. But he so hated to admit it.

“I told you the graveyard was back the other direction,” Daisy added.  Donald thought she needn’t have sounded so accusatory about it. 

“Well, how was I supposed to know?  All these trees look just the same, how’s anybody supposed to find their way around?”

“It’s getting darker again.   I think you’re just leading us in circles.  Let’s go back.”

_ What’s the point in going back if I’m leading us in circles? _ Donald thought, but he did not say it.  What he said was, “Fine, we’ll turn around,” and he did turn them around, although after a couple minutes, he wasn’t at all sure this was the way they’d come at all.  The trees in this part of the forest were very tall, the brush and leaves underfoot very dense. There was an uneasy feeling in the air, too. If Donald hadn’t known better, he would’ve felt like they were being watched.

It all happened so suddenly, Donald never even saw anything amiss until Daisy gasped sharply.

“STOP!”

“Yow!” Donald yanked his foot out of the way just in time as a huge metal trap sprang shut just in front of them both.  

“W-what was _ that? _ ”  He staggered back in surprise, only to be pulled clear by Daisy as a second trap snapped up from the leaves, missing him by scant centimeters.  Their troubles weren’t over, however, as Donald fell back hard against a tree, and a weight dropped straight at him. The two ducks screamed, pushing apart from each other just in time, as the weight smashed into the wood behind them.  

“What’s going on?!”  

“I dunno and I don’t wanna know!”  He seized her hand. Daisy shrieked as they zig-zagged through the clearing, now in a full panic.  Every few steps, a new trap sprang shut at their feet, almost catching Donald by the tail, snagging Daisy’s dress.  They darted apart as the jaws snapped closed between them, only to snap back together against each other, desperately trying to keep a hold on each other’s hands.  Donald gave a desperate screech as he dragged Daisy toward the apparent safety of the trees, and they almost made it. But it wasn’t to be. Donald’s foot came down in the middle of a big loop of rope, and Daisy caught sight of it in time to give a warning shout - but far too late to stop it.

“Donald, look out - !”

She grabbed his sleeve to pull him away, but the rope swept up around them, spinning them in a circle until it yanked them off the ground entirely, pinned together in the middle of a thick coil.  Another trap! Donald erupted in rage as Daisy looked wildly around for something to get purchase on as they hung there.

“What’s going on?!  Donald, what’s happening?!” 

“I dunno, I dunno!”  His arms were pinned to his sides, so he kicked his feet manically, which did nothing but swing them around in a jerky little circle.  “We gotta get outta here before-”

He stopped short as a spine-chilling laugh filled the clearing.  It got close and closer, like someone was hurrying their way, until a woman burst out from the trees.  She was a duck, like the two of them, but perhaps a bit older. She was dressed in a black gown, and had straight jetblack hair that brushed her shoulders as she rubbed her hands together in glee.  “Ah ha! Ha ha ha HA! I’ve got you now, my juicy little - what?” She stopped short, visibly startled as she looked up at them fully for the first time. “What?! You’re not my newts!” She jabbed an angry finger up at them.  “Who are you and what are you doing in my trap?!”

Neither Donald nor Daisy were quite sure how to answer that at first; it seemed awfully like they were entitled to have more questions about the situation than she was.

“W-we were lost in the woods,” Donald stammered at last.  The woman - who was obviously some sort of a witch - frowned, looking at him keenly.  She even approached a couple steps, which Donald didn’t like one little bit.

“You remind me of someone,” she said after a very long time.

“Y-yeah?”  Donald drummed his fingers against his sides, afraid to move.  She leaned closer, eyes narrowing.

“...Someone I don’t like.”  Her eyes narrowed to slits, and then she closed them, stepping back again.  Donald felt a cold trickle of sweat travel down his back. “...But I haven’t had to bother with him in years.”

“How lucky for you.  Now let us out of here!” Daisy demanded, kicking her legs.  The woman’s frown deepened.

“Let you out, eh?  Let you out? I ought to use you in my recipe instead!  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to catch newts?! And now I’ll have to start over again thanks to you two.”  She waved a finger in Donald’s face again. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t turn you both into a couple of bats right now.”

“Bats?” Donald went a little pale under his feathers.  “Y-you can turn people into bats?”

The sorceress threw her head back with a loud laugh.  “Can I? I can turn them into bats, rats, cats, toads, crows - anything I choose!”

Daisy felt Donald’s hand close around hers and squeeze it too tight.  She gulped. “W-wow, you must be some sorceress, huh?” she offered weakly.  The witch blinked.

“Some sorceress?   _ Some  _ sorceress?  I’m  _ the  _ sorceress!  The one, incomparable sorceress!  I -” she paused for emphasis. “- am  _ Magica De Spell _ !”  She turned wide eyes on the pair of them, and there was an uncomfortable silence.

“Oh?” Donald said after an unbearably long time, as politely as he could manage.  The witch set her hands on her hips in a huff, clearly offended. 

“Do you mean to say you’ve never heard of Magica De Spell?”

Both ducks stiffened.  “Er....” Daisy’s fingers drummed anxiously against her hip.  “We’re...just...traveling through, you see. From far away.”

“Yeah, far away.  _  Really _ far away.”

“Travelers, eh?”

“Yes, exactly!” Daisy agreed quickly.  Magica smirked.

“Only a fool would travel through these dark woods.”

“Oh yeah!?” Donald felt heat creep up his neck.  Daisy kicked his leg in warning but he pretended not to feel it.  “So what are you doing here, then?”

Magica tossed her hair.  “Stupid! I’m no mere traveler, I’m the most powerful sorceress in the world!  These woods are nothing to me. I don’t fear it - I don’t fear anything! Darkness - spirits - monsters - goblins!  I laugh at them all! The Ghoul King himself is nothing to me!”

Daisy kicked Donald’s leg again, and this time he did pay attention.

“You know the Ghoul King?” asked Daisy at once.

Magica gave a little careless shrug. “I wouldn’t say I know him.  But you’d have to be some kind of a fool to not know  _ of _ him.”  She narrowed her eyes again in a way that seemed sort of significant and Donald coughed.

“Like I said, we’re from out of town.”

“Hmmm.”  Magica shrugged her shoulders.  “Well, never mind. I grow tired of this.  Now, would you like to be a rat or a toad?”  She lifted her hands toward them, pausing in thought.  “What a pity I can’t just turn you both into newts, that would save a lot of time.  I must practice that.”

“Wait!”  Donald flailed his legs.  “If you let us out of here, we’ll fix the traps for you!  Just as good as new!”

“Yes!  Sure! A-and let us go afterwards, of course,” Daisy added.  Magica considered that. It would be much more fun to turn them into toads.  On the other hand, it really was very irritating to set up those traps. So after a long pause - long enough that Donald started to sweat again, she shrugged her shoulders.

“Oh, very well.  I’ll let you out.” 

As the two ducks slumped in relief, Magica took out a tiny bottle of something from the folds of her dress and swirled the contents a moment before uncorking the bottle.  A waft of green steam escaped and Daisy caught her breath, feeling instinctively that it would be best not to take a deep breath until the cloud dissipated a little. She stepped up to them and tipped the bottle.  Donald quickly shifted his feet out of the way, expecting some sort of acidic hiss any second, no doubt a concoction that would eat away your flesh right to the bones - but instead, Magica dripped the concoction on the ropes binding them.  They quivered a little, and then began to unwind themselves, until the whole coil dropped in a heap at their feet. 

“Wow.”   Genuinely impressed, Donald offered Daisy a hand as they stepped out of the ropes.  “What was that stuff?”

“Detangler,” Magica said casually, and recorked the bottle, tucking it back into her pocket.  “Now, get to work - and I want every single trap set perfectly or I’ll turn you into toads after all.”

By this time, Daisy was no longer entirely sure that Magica really knew how to turn anyone into a toad, but she thought it best not to test the theory.  So instead, as Donald set about picking up all that rope - with a little bit of difficulty - Daisy began winching some of the springs back into place. It would take a while to fix them all, and frankly, it seemed like a stupid way to catch anything, let alone a newt, but Daisy kept this thought to herself too.  Magica sat down on a log and after a moment, took out a nail file, clearly planning on supervising the entire process. So after a minute or two, Donald decided to take his chances. He cleared his throat.

“Say, about the Ghoul King, er … I don’t suppose you can tell us anything about him?”

Magica shot them a suspicious look.  “Why do you want to know about the King?  Are you enemies of his?”

The two ducks exchanged a glance.  It seemed obvious enough to both of them that a little discretion would be wise.  Donald spoke cautiously. “Er, well, we aren’t his enemies, exactly, but … he’s put some kind of a curse on us or something.”

“A curse?”  She looked genuinely startled, but her expression shifted quickly into amusement.  “How delightful! What kind of a curse?”

“Oh, well, just a regular sort of curse, I guess, you know,” Donald offered uselessly.  “What kind does he  _ usually _ put on people?”

It was a dodge, but luckily for Donald, Magica wasn’t really that curious, not unless it was something juicy.  She had books full of regular sorts of curses, more than anybody could reasonably hope to use, no matter how industrious.  “I never heard of him cursing anyone before. You must’ve done something truly idiotic to get his attention. What was it?”

“We’re not sure, exactly,” Daisy said, as they exchanged another glance.  “But we were hoping to find him and get him to undo it.”

“Is that so?  Good luck. He’s a stubborn little beast to pick a fight with.”

“Have  _ you _ ever fought with him?”

Magica flicked a speck of lint from her dress.  “Our paths have crossed a few times. We may have had a small disagreement once, years ago.”

“And you lost?” Daisy suggested immediately.  Magica shot her a sharp look.

“I did  _ not _ lose!”  An uncomfortable moment passed, and then the sorceress turned back to smoothing her gown with a little shrug.  “...It just happened to be that I decided it wasn’t worth the exertion, so I excused myself from the matter. We mostly avoid one another these days.  It’s for the best.”

“What is he like?”

“Like?   What do you mean, what he’s  _ like _ ?”  She tossed her hair back.  “He’s like most people, king or no king. He’s a bore! A bother - and overrated, like most of the so-called mages one meets.”  She paused a beat. “...And he’s so  _ sensitive _ about anybody ‘meddling’ with all his little creatures and things, him  _ and _ that little hussy he employs. Pathetic! If  _ I  _ had all the beasts of the night at my command, I would make much better use of them - but like I said, he’s not worth my time.  I have better things to do than worry about some so-called king. HA! Imagine a sorceress of my skill and beauty bowing to the likes of  _ him _ .  And his castle is much too small for anybody respectable, anyway.”

Neither of the two ducks were quite sure how to square these comments with setting newt traps in the middle of the dark forest, but there was something that caught Donald’s attention.  “So...all the monsters in these woods are at his command, too? They all  _ obey _ the Ghoul King?”

Magica waved a hand.  “So he says, but who knows?  I’ve never seen him do anything really impressive, no matter how powerful he’s supposed to be.”

“What about the ghosts and things?”

“What about them?” Magica clapped her hands.  “Less talk, more work!”

Daisy hurried to snap another trap into place.  “Does he rule them too?”

“I suppose so, but it doesn’t matter.  Ghosts are a nuisance. I have a spell to poof them when they come poking around.”  She laughed again, and Donald, shuddering, found himself feeling bizarrely sympathetic to the ghosts for a change.

“Suppose somebody  _ did _ want to challenge the Ghoul King, then?  How would they do it?”

“How should I know?” Magica was looking at him very suspiciously again.  “You ask a lot of questions for a couple of travelers.”

“Oh, that’s just because of the curse and everything,” said Daisy hastily, fluffing up the fallen leaves around the trap she’d just reset.  “W-we just want him to fix it, that’s all.”

“But we’ll fight him if we have to!” Donald insisted.  Magica snorted.

“You’re no better than that other fool.”

“Other fool?  What other fool?” Donald asked, before blinking.  “...Hey,  _ I’m _ not a fool,” he muttered.  Magica was waving her hand impatiently.

“The fool who’s made an enemy of the king - everyone knows about him.  He’s been making a pest of himself for ages. He fancies himself quite powerful, although I suppose he knows better than to mess with  _ me _ .  He’s challenged the Ghoul King a dozen times by now, only to fail.  If he was smart, he’d learn his lesson and turn to more profitable pursuits.  Now I -” she caught herself and stopped short. “-Of course, if  _ I _ wanted to challenge the Ghoul King myself, I could defeat him easily, but as I said, it’s not worth the effort.”

Donald and Daisy exchanged another look.  This was starting to get very interesting.  “It sounds like it’s worth it to that other fella.  What’s his name?”

“Oh, It escapes me just now - something ridiculous.  He’s an even bigger bore than the King, which is an accomplishment. Ugh! Obnoxious little mouse.” Magica waved her hands.  “Haven’t you finished those traps yet?”

“Oh, sure, we’re just - but the other fella’s name -”

“Enough questions!  Be quiet!” Magica clapped her hands together.  “This is why I can’t stand to have my work interrupted.  Oh, well. So long as you’re here, I have some other chores you could do for me.”

“ _ Other  _ chores? Now wait just a minute.  We fixed all your lousy traps for you.  You said you’d let us go!” Daisy objected.  Magica grinned.

“No -  _ you _ said that.  I made no such promise.”

“Wh, you -!” Donald clenched his fists.  “That’s nothing but a dirty trick!”

Magica didn’t look concerned in the slightest, and shrugged.  “Can you think of a better kind? Now - I’ve got a lot of potions that need re-labeling...”

“Re-label ‘em yourself!” Donald stomped his foot in disgust.  “C’mon, Daisy, let’s - WAUGH!” He leapt back as a sharp green bolt of electricity sizzled the leaves around his feet.  Magica cackled in delight, waggling her fingers, the tips of which were smoking ominously. “What was that you said?”

Daisy clutched at Donald’s sleeve.  He knew what she was thinking: what were they gonna do now?  He also knew that he had no idea what the answer was. He was weighing his options between fight or flight when a faint noise caught his attention.  

“Do you hear that?” Donald cocked an ear.  Magica tilted her head too. It sounded a little like a dog barking, was was approaching them rapidly.

“Oh!  It’s Pluto!” Daisy realized.

“Who?” Magica asked, and turned around to look  just as Pluto himself burst into the clearing. Excited as he was to see Donald, he didn’t even notice Magica until he was about to run straight into her.  He screeched to a halt, but Goofy, following immediately behind him, had no warning at all. With no time to stop, he ran straight into Pluto, who fell heavily against Magica, knocking both of them to the ground in a heap.

“Woof!  Get off of me, you big stupid beast!” Pluto gave her an apologetic grin, but she just shoved him off of her, and he scrambled away to slink back behind Goofy’s legs.  Donald noticed that the little bottle she’d used to untie the ropes before had fallen from her pocket. Impulsively, he bent to snatch it up, and was straightening again when Goofy stepped forward, almost bonking heads with him. 

“Garwsh - lemme help ya, ma’am!” Goofy bent to do just that, reaching out to take Magica’s elbow and pull her to her feet.  Unfortunately, in doing so, he stepped right back into the same fallen log Magica had been sitting on before. With a yelp, Goofy tumbled back, and he and the witch both fell to the ground all over again in the opposite direction.

“That’s it!”  Magica struggled to get to her feet, her black hair falling in disarray over her furious face.  “I’m going to turn the whole lot of you into toads! Into toadstools!”

“Maybe next time,” Donald gulped, hauling Goofy up by the lapel of his coat and grabbing Daisy’s hand.

“Toadstools?” Goofy gasped.  “Hey! Wh-what’s goin’ on?” 

“I’ll explain later! Let’s GO!”

“Come back here!  I’m going to - YEEK!”  Magica reared back to shoot another bolt of lightning after them, but nearly stepped into one of her own traps, pulling back with a shriek as it snapped shut.  There was a loud snap as the bolt hit a nearby tree branch and sent it crashing to the ground, triggering a second snap and quickly setting off a chain reaction among the other traps.  Donald wasn’t about to stick around long enough to see what she would think of  _ that _ .  As the clatter of traps springing shot off all through the clearing, the foursome raced away into the woods as fast as their legs could carry them, as Magica’s shouts of rage faded into the distance behind them.

 

~~~

 

The fog was still hanging heavily over the trees as Mickey and Minnie made their way back through the forest once more.  The air itself felt sort of thick, as if it took more effort to pull it into your lungs. But the biggest problem in Mickey’s mind was that they were lost all over again.  They’d tried to find the graveyard again for a long time, but this had proved fruitless, so finally Mickey had the idea to make a marker out of sticks to point which way they’d gone, and they set off, hoping their friends would find them somehow.  It was lonely though, without even Pluto to keep them company. The two mice stuck very close together, ears twitching at each rustle of wind, both afraid of hearing another low moan but unwilling to confess their fear to one another.

“Sure wish this fog would lift,” Mickey said at last, quietly.  Minnie nodded with the immediacy of someone who’s been waiting for just such an opening.

“Me too.  Every time the wind blows, I feel like there’s someone there.  I wish we knew if we were going the right way.”

“Yeah.  Wish we had Goofy’s compass about now.”

“So do I.”  She fell silent a moment, then reached down to lift the chain around her neck, letting the amulet dangle in the air.  “...I wonder why it reacted to my necklace that way.”

“Maybe it’s magical or something.  Can’tcha remember anything about it at all?”

She shook her head.  “No. Do you think it really could be?  Magical or something like that? I  _ wish _ I could remember, but ...oh, every time I try, it just makes my head ache.”  She frowned. “I wonder why it stopped working when we were in the graveyard before.”

 “Hmm, well, maybe it was somethin’ about the fog.”  Or the ghosts, but Mickey preferred not to dwell on that subject.  “Seems sorta dead now, don’t it?” He reached out to touch the gemstone Minnie was still holding aloft.  As soon as his finger touched the stone, he yanked it back again, startled. “Yow!”

“What happened?”  Minnie dropped the chain and looked at him, at least as surprised as Mickey was.  He shook his hand faintly.

“I dunno!  It shocked me or something.”  

“What?”  Minnie clutched the necklace, looking as stricken as if she’d done the horrible deed herself.  “Did you hurt yourself?”

“A’course not, it wasn’t that bad, I was just surp - gosh!  Minnie, look!” He took her hands to pull them away. “It’s glowin’ again!”  And indeed it was, as brightly as he’d seen it yet. 

“What on earth?”  Minnie tucked her chin down to see it.  “What do you suppose it means?”

“I dunno!”  Mickey was still holding onto her hands, but he moved them both closer to the stone, intending to poke a finger at it again, shock or no shock.  As he drew their hands closer to it, the glow got brighter. He stopped. The light held steady. He moved their hands away again. The glow faded a little.  He shot a glance up at Minnie to see if she had noticed, and he knew that she had when she looked at him with wide eyes.

He let go of her hands and stepped back.  The light faded, but didn’t die out. He stepped closer again.  It got brighter.

“...Huh,” he managed at last.

“I think it really is magic,” Minnie almost whispered.  She lifted the gem again, reaching out for Mickey’s hand.  He gave it to her readily, and they laced their fingers together.  The amulet brightened a bit. There was no doubt about it. “What do you think it means?” Minnie asked, lifting the gem again.  Mickey shrugged helplessly.

“I dunno, but we could use some kinda good luck charm, couldn’t we?”  He hesitated, but then couldn’t help adding, “I guess...maybe there’s more to all this than we know about.  You an’...an’ me and everything.”

Minnie’s cheeks looked a little pink, but maybe it was just the glow from the amulet.  “Maybe you’re right. At least it can’t hurt to stay close - right?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinkin’.”

They set off that way together - hand in hand, sticking very close indeed.


	6. Captain Pete

Chapter Six - Captain Pete

  
  


Minnie was the one who heard the first real sound, after quite a long spell of hearing a lot of half-imagined ones. She sucked in a breath as she clutched Mickey’s sleeve.  Mickey had been pretty distracted, still glancing over at Minnie every few seconds and wondering if he ought to try any boxing maneuvers against any spirits who approached them like Donald had.  But he stopped dead too, standing still to listen. He couldn’t help fearing the worst, but as the wind carried the sound their way, he realized quickly it didn’t sound like a ghost at all. He was on the point of saying so when Minnie got there first.

“Mickey!  Do you hear that?  It sounds like Pluto!”

He cocked an ear, trying to be sure before he made too much of a racket, but it certainly sounded like a familiar bark.  “Yer right! I think it is! Pluto! PLUTO!” 

They stood where they were, listening.  They could both hear the sound distinctly, but it didn’t seem to be getting any closer.  In fact, it was hard to tell where it was even coming from.

“Look, Mickey.”  Minnie tugged on his hand, and he watched as she held up her necklace. The little gemstone was still glowing, just like it had done ever since Mickey’d touched it a little earlier, and now, as Pluto continued to bark, it pulsed faintly in time with the sound.  Mickey blinked.

“W-what in th’world…?”  He bent a little closer, tilting his ear toward the amulet.  Sure enough, that’s where the barking seemed to be coming from.  Minnie turned slowly, an impulsive move, but one that seemed to have a definite effect.  The barking was definitely louder when she turned to their right than when she turned to the left.  She shrugged helplessly, unsure what to make of it, but Mickey grinned.

“You know somethin’?  I think it’s leadin’ us toward him.”

“But how?”

“I dunno - but it’s worth a try, ain’t it?”

He set off with Minnie following willingly along, and they walked in the direction the barking seemed to be coming from.  Pluto quieted down a bit as they went, and Mickey was concerned they might get lost again. But then, after a minute or two, he could hear the pup again.  This time, the sound wasn’t coming from the amulet though. This time, it was echoing through the trees, very faintly, but unmistakably real.

“Ya hear that, Min?  What’d I tell ya?”

Minnie was holding up the necklace, which had stopped making any sound at all, now that it didn’t matter, apparently.  But she was beaming in spite of her amazement. Mickey beamed back, then he cupped his hand to his mouth. “Pluto! Here, boy!  We’re here! C’mere, Pluto!”

  There was a momentary silence, then Pluto began to bark more wildly than ever before when he recognized Mickey’s voice.  The sound got closer and more insistent, until at last Pluto himself burst out of the fog and, catching sight of Mickey, lit up, howling his head off in sheer delight.  He made a beeline towards him and, without so much as an if-you-please, leaped into his arms, nearly knocking him over in the process. Mickey laughed, fending off the facewashing he immediately started to get, and doing a poor job of it.  “Pluto! Aw, good boy, Pluto, I - ha ha! I missed you t- ha ha, cut it out, willya?”

“Mickey!” 

“Oh, Mickey look - it’s Goofy - and Donald and Daisy too!”  Minnie waved to bring the three of them bounding their way. “Oh, thank goodness!  I lost track of everyone in the fog - I thought we’d never find you!”

“Minnie!”  Daisy threw her arms impulsively around the little mouse and squeezed her.  “Oh, I thought for sure you’d get eaten alive out here.”

“Me?  Goodness, I was perfectly safe here with Mickey - but where were all of you?”

“I dunno!”  Goofy shrugged cheerfully.  “One minute I was walkin’ along with all you folks an’ the next I was someplace else in the woods.  There were spooks out there too, Mick -” he shuddered violently as if to prove his point. “- But I think we lost ‘em.  Pluto an’ me thought we oughta stick together, so I knew we’d find you sooner or later. Were you lost too?”

“S-somethin’ like that,” Mickey admitted, finally managing to coax Pluto back down onto all four feet.  “I’ll explain a little later.”

“Yeah, well you won’t believe what happened to Daisy and me,” Donald almost bragged.

“I’m ready to believe just about anything by now.  Hey!” Mickey snapped his fingers, interrupting his own train of thought.  “Has anybody seen Horace or Clarabelle?”

They all looked around to one another, but there was nothing but shaking of heads.  “Well, they can’t have gotten too far. If we all managed to circle back together, they’re probably close by too.”

Minnie crouched to stroke Pluto’s back.  “I wonder if my necklace could help us find them too,” she mused.

“Yer necklace?” Daisy repeated. Then the two mice had to try and explain what had happened, and how the charm had led them to Pluto.

“Crazy!” Daisy concluded when they were done. “This whole place seems cursed if you ask me - not just us. It’s rotten with magic from top to bottom.”

“Do you think that crystal doodad can help us find Horace and Clarabelle?” Goofy queried. “Or does it only work if they start barkin’?”

“I don’t really know,” Mickey admitted. “I’m not even sure how it worked the first time. It’s not doing anything right now.”

“Hmm.” Goofy rubbed his chin. “Maybe that means we oughta be standin’ still! Well, you know, they say if you get lost, it’s better to stay in one place, so’s ya don’t get more lost.  Although, I’ve never been sure how ya know just how lost ya are. Every time I been lost, it seemed about the same amount. I think.”

Mickey didn’t even know how to respond to that, so he was a little glad when Donald piped up instead.

“Well, you can stand around if you want, but not me. We’ve already been here a long time, and that witch is still out there in the woods!  I’m not hanging around waiting for her to catch up and turn us all into lizards or something.”

“Witch?” Mickey exchanged a look with Minnie. “What witch?”

“That’s what we were trying to tell you about before!” Daisy’s eyes got big.  “We ran into her out there in the woods. A real witch.”

“Yeah!  She was using magic all over the place and everything.  Oh, that’s right! That was her name! Magical…” he glanced to Daisy for help.

“Magica,” she corrected him.  “Magica De Spell. She said she was the greatest sorceress in the land or something.”  She rolled her eyes. Mickey looked thoughtful.

“Huh.  That name sounds kinda familiar...but heck,” he rubbed his temples.  “Who even knows anymore? Maybe I’m just imaginin’ things.”

“Well, but that’s not all!  She told us she knows the Ghoul King!  An’ not only that -” 

A twig snapped somewhere in the woods, and Donald jumped.  Nobody spoke for a long moment, until it was clear that nothing awful was going to happen right away, and then Minnie gulped.  “ ...Maybe we should get out of here, and look for Horace and Clarabelle before that witch finds them first,” she suggested. “And then we can talk about everything.”

“Good idea.”  Donald grabbed Daisy’s hand, ready to get moving without any further delay.  Mickey glanced Minnie’s way. There was an awful lot of hand-holding going on around here lately, and he didn’t want to come off over-eager but on the other hand, he didn’t want to lose sight of her again, especially not with witches around, but on the other hand - 

He was still debating with himself when Minnie reached out and tucked her hand in his as neat as you please, so that settled that. 

Goofy, meanwhile, was fishing around in his pocket, and as Mickey’s thoughts returned to their current situation and not just the aspects of it that involved Minnie, he gave a little start.  “Wow!” The others looked up as he began fumbling with something and nearly dropping it. He recovered, though, and pointed triumphantly. “Look! My compass is working again!” And sure enough, it was! The needle was pointing steadily off through the woods.  He scratched his head. “Now how do you suppose that happened? I’m sure it was actin’ up just a few minutes ago.”

“Must be Minnie’s necklace.” Mickey bent to look. It wasn’t much, but the amulet was definitely glowing again. “I suppose we might as well go that way, huh?”  And with no better ideas amongst them, they did, setting off dutifully in the direction of the arrow once again. Mickey kept an ear piqued for any sound from the amulet too.  He sort of had a feeling that Horace wasn’t going to make so much noise as Pluto, and perhaps that would make a difference, but still, it couldn’t hurt to try. 

When they’d gone a little ways, weaving through the dark branches to keep on course, he glanced at Minnie.  She was watching the amulet very closely, and he smiled a little. She was an awful good kid, he thought, and was still thinking it when she glanced his way.  Caught, he gave a faint little chuckle, and cleared his throat as if he’d been just about to say something and had not merely been staring for no good reason. 

“Mebbe yer a witch too, Min - but th’ good kind,” he added hastily when she made a face at him.

“Maybe  _ you’re  _ a witch,” she retorted, although she didn’t look very unhappy. Donald lifted a finger.

“About that, actually….”

He didn’t even have time to finish before Goofy interrupted.  “Uh oh - needle’s jumpin’ around again!”

Mickey darted a glance toward Minnie’s necklace.  It was shining, all right, but he didn’t hear anything.  “W-whaddya suppose that means?”

As if on cue, there was a shout from nearby, and Pluto sat up in his hind legs to bark at it.  Mickey braced himself, but a moment more revealed that the shout belonged to Horace, who appeared through the trees with Clarabelle close behind.  They greeted the group with enthusiastic waves. If Mickey hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought that getting temporarily lost was about the best thing for the general moral he could’ve come up with.  The reunited parties rushed together, and for a moment, all was happiness and delight, everybody speaking as one, as delighted as old friends meeting after years.

“Why, we musta been less than a mile apart all th’time!”

“An’ here I thought it’d take days to find all you folks again!”

“Silly, gettin’ scared over a few little old ghosts.”

“Wonder why we couldn’t hear you shouting.  I hope my hearing’s not going, that’s all we need now.”

“Ain’t nobody hurt?  Aw, that’s great!”

Horace scratched his head. “That was downright nutty,” he summed up for the group.  “An’ the nuttiest part of all is that all them ghosts seem to have up and vanished. I kept expectin’ one of ‘em to pop up any second, but we ain’t seen a single one since we ran outta that haunted old boneyard.”

“Good riddance,” said Clarabelle firmly.

“Toldja I scared ‘em off,” Donald told Daisy.  She patted his hand.

“ Yes, but I wonder what they wanted?”

“Er, well…”  Mickey shot a glance at Minnie, feeling a little ashamed about the whole episode.  But lying about it wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Were they friends or not? “I dunno about any of you guys, but … when we all got seperated back there, those ghosts, they...they were talking to me.  Telling me to go with them.” He shrugged lopsidedly, voice dropping as he confessed. “I almost did for a minute. But then Minnie found me an’ brought me to my senses real quick.” He lifted his eyes to hers again and she touched his shoulder.  That made him feel a little better somehow.

This honest recounting brought about a range of reactions from his audience, which he’d been prepared for - but at least nobody seemed angry with him.  Daisy lifted a hand to her cheek.

“Do you think they tried to possess you?”

“The NERVE!” Clarabelle glared, as if no polite, upstanding ghost would do any such thing.

“Are ya sure yer all right now, Mick?” 

“Yeah, I’m all right,” he assured them all, rubbing his arm.  “I just dunno what they were tryin’ to do. You know, where they were tryin’ to take me.”

“Well, we didn’t see nothin’ like that,” Horace noted, glancing to Clarabelle who nodded.  “We’ve been circling around these darned woods ever since losin’ you folks.”

“I was with Pluto th’ whole time, until we ran into Donald and Daisy again.”

“Well, we sure saw somethin’ crazy.  You guys gotta hear about this.” With the whole group finally reunited, Donald managed to get through the whole story at last - or, at least half of it.  Daisy told the other half, the pair of them interrupting each other every third word as they recounted stumbling into the clearing full of Magica’s traps and everything they’d learned.  Mickey looked thoughtful throughout the whole story, and as the two ducks were recounting how they’d fled, positive the whole time that she was following close behind them, Minnie touched his arm.  

“Mickey?”

“Hm?  Aw - it’s nothing.  I was tryin’ to remember… I dunno what.  It just felt like I might be able to think of somethin’ for a second.”

Daisy gasped.  “Oh, that’s right!  Donald, you haven’t told them the rest of what Magica said!”

Donald made a disgusted sound.  “Magica said lots of things. If you ask me, she was full of it.”

“Come on, use your brains for a second.  Don’t you remember? About the other guy!”

“Other guy?”

“Oh!”  Daisy shoved his arm, looking disgusted.  “You remember. The other sorcerer or whoever he was!” Without waiting for Donald to recall, she turned directly to the others now.  “She said there was someone else, another sorcerer or mage or something. She said he’d challenged the Ghoul King before, lots of times!”

“Oh, yeah!  Now I remember!” Donald snapped his fingers.  “She said he kept trying to fight the King, but he always loses!”

“Gosh, that’s a shame fer th’ feller,” Goofy sympathized.

Horace was not so moved. “Yeah, but what’s it got to do with  _ us _ ?”

“Well, Magica also said something about -” Daisy paused to recall the phrasing, “-An ‘obnoxious little mouse’.”

Everyone looked at Mickey.  He looked back at everyone. “What?” he asked, immediately before he understood what, and then he frowned.  “Aw, that’s - that’s ridiculous. She coulda been talkin’ about almost anybody.”

“Yeah, anybody except any of the rest of  _ us _ ,” Donald pointed out.

“O-oh yeah?” Mickey’s shoulders scrunched up toward his cheeks defensively.  “Well, ain’tcha forgettin’ somethin’? This guy’s some sort of sorcerer and I ain’t.  So it couldn’t be me anyhow.”

Clarabelle gasped loudly.  “But that’s just it, then!”

“What is?”

“Forgetting something!  Mickey! You’ve forgotten you’re a sorcerer!”

Mickey’s cheeks were starting to redden now.  “Aw, that’s silly.”

“But what if Clarabelle’s right?  Maybe you really do have magic powers but you just can’t use them because of the curse!”

“H-how couldja forget a thing like that?” Mickey looked down at his hands, as though he was holding the answers in them.  Magic powers? It was a surprisingly appealing idea. And there  _ was _ the way Minnie’s amulet had reacted when he touched it.

“We’ve probably forgotten all sorts of things,” Goofy pointed out.  “Maybe this is no diff’ern’t.”

Mickey closed his hands into fists for a moment before letting them drop.  “...Okay, but ya said this guy keeps tryin’ to fight the king.  _ I _ don’t wanna fight anybody.”

“Maybe you’ve got good reasons.” Minnie was looking at him intently, her brown eyes very big.  “Maybe he’s a - a villain. Maybe that’s why.”

Mickey’s blush deepened.  “Aw, nuts. That’s - c-c’mon, do I seem like the sorta guy to pick a fight I can’t win just on account of somebody bein’ a villain?”

“Yes,” said Donald, Daisy, and Horace, all at the same time, while Goofy nodded placidly and Clarabelle shook her head in apparent sympathy for his plight.  Even Pluto, drawing himself up to sit politely at Mickey’s feet, looked up at him with an expression that seemed to indicate agreement. Minnie bit her lip, hands clasped under her chin.  Mickey didn’t dare look at her.

“Well, so what?  It don’t make much diff’rence either way, does it?  We still gotta find this guy an’ - well, the rest of ya must’ve done somethin’ to tick him off too.”

“Yeah - bein’ friends with  _ you _ , probably!”  Donald gave Mickey a mild shove.  He took a step back, right into Minnie’s hands, which landed on his shoulder.  

“Don’t worry, Mickey,” she said softly, even as Donald laughed.  “No matter what happened, we’re all in this together now.”

“Sure, sure,” agreed Donald, overhearing.  “We’ll sort the guy out, don’t worry.”

“Y-yeah,” said Mickey, but suddenly he didn’t feel quite so sure.  He didn’t really think it was all true, about him challenging the Ghoul King and all, but … he didn’t exactly know that it  _ wasn’t _ true, either.

They all started to move again, following the compass - toward what, exactly?  Mickey was starting to really wonder.

 

~~~~

 

Pete leaned back, picking his teeth idly.  The fog had almost dissipated now, but that was all right - it had plenty of time to do its work.  With luck, half of those little jerks had been eaten by monsters by now. Pete would’ve helped them along only he didn’t dare take a chance of the mouse getting swallowed up in one gulp, as satisfying as that would be.  But one could always think positively. Maybe when all this was over, he’d finally get to handle things his own way after all.

It had been a good long while now, Pete reflected; time to double-check his handiwork.  He eased himself down from the little nest he’d sort of made, sitting among the gnarled roots of the big tree.  Right. The only way to check on the effectiveness of his little scheme would be the seeing spell the Master had given him to use, unless he felt like tracking the group down through the woods, which he did not feel like doing.  Pete didn’t like depending on magic so much; it was much better to get down to business with your bare hands, or a sturdy weapon - preferably something heavy and blunt. But beggers couldn’t be choosers. He dug in his pocket until he found what he needed, a glass orb half the size of his palm.  He held it out at arms’ length.

“Show me tha mouse,” he demanded, squinting while the orb swirled with white mist.  Sure enough, there the little creep was. Pete snorted. How sweet. The little mousey, surrounded by all his friends.

All his friends?! Pete almost dropped the orb, drawing it closer as his eyes bugged out of his head.  It didn’t seem possible, but sure enough; the mouse was there - all in one piece, Pete noted sourly - but he wasn’t alone.  It took Pete a moment to run a mental count, but sure enough, every single one of those lousy little creeps was marching right along with him, just as cheery as you please, as if nothing had ever gone wrong.  

This was terrible.  The Master would be furious, of course, but Pete didn’t really care about that; he was furious himself.  All his life, Pete had made it a point of pride that when he got someone out of the way, they  _ stayed _ got.  Obviously, he should’ve listened to his own instincts from the beginning and driven the point home with a little more force.  Well, there was still time. Pete felt for his weapons - crossbow, especially. It wasn’t part of the original plan, but he’d be damned if he was going to let a bunch of powerless nothings waltz right up to the castle.  He’d stop them yet.

~~~~

 

The fog was definitely lifting now, and in fact, was almost completely gone.  The sky was clearer too, although it seemed to be night, even if if was always a little impossible to tell  _ what _ time it was.  Mickey was starting to feel like they really had traveled an awfully long way since he’d woken up on the other side of the swamp.  Surely they must be getting close to the Ghoul King’s castle - provided they were going the right way to start with.

Pluto had started to sniff along the ground in a particularly attentive manner, and now he began to whine faintly.  Mickey stroked his head. “Whatsa matter, Pluto? Whatcha smell this time, huh?” Pluto whined again, but of course he couldn’t describe it.

Goofy’s brow furrowed a little.  “...D’you hear somethin’ rattlin’?”

Minnie cocked an ear, then pointed.  “It’s your compass, Goofy!”

“Oh!  Hang on a minute.”  Goofy twisted the compass around, trying to read what it was telling him.  “It’s movin’ again. Th’ needle just flipped around the other way!”

“Great.  I’m startin’ to think that thing’s possessed or somethin’.”

“Or magic,” said Mickey.

“Do you think we oughta listen to it?” Clarabelle’s brow was furrowed.  “It might be leadin’ us the wrong way.”

“Well, it helped us find all of you.  And it definitely reacted to Minnie’s necklace and I’m sure that’s some kinda - you know, good luck charm or somethin’.”  He reddened a little. “I ken just tell, that’s all, so….”

“But if we turn back now...” Daisy began, concerned, looking back toward the woods.  Horace, meanwhile, was squinting into the distance. There was a grim set to his jaw.

“Don’t think we’ll have to worry about it one way or t’other.  I think mebbe it’s already too late.”

He pointed.  Pluto’s ears had lifted into an attentive posture too, and he gave a low growl that made Mickey’s skin crawl a little.  Minnie shifted closer to both of them. For possibly the first time since this whole mess had started, Mickey actually started to feel upset about it - all the roadblocks they kept running into. He couldn’t even explain quite why it only struck him just at this moment. “Oh, what in the world is it  _ now? _ ” he muttered.

They looked in the direction Horace was pointing, and it quickly became clear enough.  Even though the forest was growing thinner at this point, the trees themselves were larger here than any they’d seen before, and a handful of yards before them was an especially large one.  It cast a dark shadow, but as they stared, a figure became visible, standing there amongst the sprawling roots, and now, knowing perhaps that it has been seen, it shifted its balance awkwardly.  It was a little unsettling at first, and Mickey didn’t feel a whole lot better when the figure got clear enough in the vanishing mist to make out a few more details. He was an enormous man, as broad as he was high, wearing black armor that strained against its buckles to hold him in.  One foot was clad in a black boot, but the other was no foot at all, just a stout wooden peg.

“What in all tarnation?” Horace murmured.  It probably would’ve made sense to make a break for it, but at this point, that hardly seemed worth the effort.  Trouble was apparently going to keep right on finding them no matter where they went, so why not get it all out in the open and done with?  That, at least seemed to be the common feeling, because nobody bolted.

The mysterious stranger heaved himself off of his perch at last and met the ground with a thud.  He was even bigger up close than he’d seemed on first glance - so big, it was almost a wonder he didn’t punch right through the earth and end up wedged in the dirt up to his middle.  His mouth was curled into a grin that wasn’t remotely friendly.

“Well, well, well - this really is just precious - the whole lot of yas wanderin’ around lost in the dark woods.  If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it. I guess that spell really worked after all!”

“Wait a minute - you know about the curse? You know who we are!?” cried Mickey.

“Yeah, I know who you are,” said the man, grinning.  “Yer a whole bunch of  _ nobodies _ , dat’s who!  Ha!”

“So just who in the heck are  _ you? _ ” demanded Horace.

“Ya really don’t remember nothin’ about nothin’, do ya?  Just a buncha dumb saps now!” He threw his head back and laughed uproariously.  “I’m Pete!  _ Captain  _ Pete!”

“Oh yeah?!” burst out Donald, but when Pete’s glare shot his way, he flinched.  “A-an’ just whaddya want?”

“What do I want?  Oh, it ain’t about what I want.  It’s about what  _ you _ want.”

“What we want?” repeated Mickey.  He shot a glance Minnie’s way. Gosh, but he wished he’d managed to get her someplace safe before they ran into this guy - hidden back in the woods, anything.  He felt weak again, helpless, and he hated it. He couldn’t explain why, but he knew there was something wrong, something missing, something that would’ve made him feel complete - like he really could protect everyone.  Especially  _ her _ .

“Yeah,” said the Captain - Pete, or whatever he’d said.  His nasty grin widened. “Like if ya wanna keep all yer cute little fingers an’ toes, or them nice big ears.  ‘Cause if ya do, ya better scram back th’way ya came from, or else!”

“Or else WHAT?” Donald challenged reflexively.  Daisy looked like she could’ve strangled him. Pete opened and closed a massive fist, squeezing it so tightly that the leather of his glove strained audibly. 

“Or else ya  _ might  _ meet with a misfortunate accident.”

Mickey raised an arm in front of Minnie.  “W-who sent ya?” he asked abruptly. “Was it th’ Ghoul King?!”

The question had been almost a shot in the dark, but Pete’s reaction was immediate.  His brows shot up in surprise, before he scowled more deeply than ever. His tone, unfriendly in the first place, now became almost a growl.  “Where’d ya hear that name?!”

Bullseye.  Maybe. Mickey shrugged.  “That ain’t important, is it?  You  _ are _ workin’ for him - ain’tcha?”

“We know all  _ about _ the Ghoul King,”  Clarabelle interjected, giving Pete a hard look that would’ve been enough to make any of the others cower.

“Yeah!  An’ we know he’s cursed us too!” Goofy added.  Mickey straightened his back.

“We know the Ghoul King’s stolen our memories and we’re gonna get ‘em back!  W-Whether he likes it or not,” he added, a little more meekly than he would’ve liked.

Pete looked astonished.  After a few beats had gone by, however, his face thawed at last, and as he seemed to take in all this new information, he started to laugh again, just as loudly as before.  This development was beyond Mickey entirely. He couldn’t see what was so funny.

“Th’ Ghoul King - stolen yer - oh ho, that’s rich!  Haw haw haw! Jus’ wait’ll I tell th’ boss about this!”

The little party exchanged confused glances, but of course, nobody knew what this could mean.  It made Mickey angry though, that Pete obviously knew something they didn’t and had no intention of enlightening them.  His cheeks burned. “O-oh, yeah? Well - why don’tcha point us toward his castle an’ we’ll tell him about it ourselves!”

Pete controlled himself at last, grinning.  “Sorry, mousey - no can do! But I’ll be sure to tell th’ boss - that is, I’ll be sure the Ghoul King gets your message.  Now -” his smile vanished again, replaced by a threatening look. “ _ Scram.” _

“Yeah?  Or what?” Horace retorted, his dander rising.  Donald looked as though he also wanted to say ‘yeah!’ just for the heck of it, but Daisy’s hand tightened on his shoulder and he held his tongue.  Pluto had lowered his head almost to the ground now, and a low growl rippled out of him in a nonstop stream. Goofy nodded as if agreeing with him.

Pete reached back over his shoulder and lifted a huge crossbow into position.  “Or else I’ll scram ya myself.”

Mickey didn’t know what possessed him, but he just couldn’t stand it.  Creatures, monsters, that was one thing. But he wasn’t going to stand here and let somebody like  _ Pete  _ threaten him.  Why, he was just a no good - 

A no good what?  Mickey couldn’t answer, and he couldn’t hold back either.

“Try it,” he said coldly.  He could feel his friends look toward him in surprise - even  Horace, for all his bluster, was a little startled. But Mickey was angry, angrier than he understood.  Even his clenched fists felt hot. There was no way he was gonna let Pete try to swagger his way all over them

_ Not after he’d already failed to protect everyone - _

The flash of memory was gone before it could fully form.

Pete looked as though he hadn’t expected this, but he quickly gave a disinterested shrug.  “Have it your way.”

He lifted the crossbow almost casually.  Minnie sucked in a breath and yanked at Mickey’s coat to pull him out of the way, but the bolt would’ve missed him anyhow.  It thudded into the ground at their feet. They stared at it for a long second.

“HA!” blurted Donald.  “You missed!”

The words were hardly out of his mouth before the bolt exploded, sending a shower of grass, dead leaves and dirt everywhere.  Mickey spun to cover Minnie. He could hear Pete laughing again, and was glaring at him fiercely even before the dust had cleared. A big bully, that was all  _ he _ was. Probably his bark was worse than his bite even, only Mickey hated to find out.

“I’ve had just about enough of you, fella!” Horace’s jaw was jutted out at a dangerous angle.  Mickey half expected Clarabelle to dart out and hold him back, but she looked just about as fed up as he was; if there’d been something heavy within reach, she probably would have snatched it up and made use of it.  Pete snorted, and raised the crossbow to fire again, but Horace was faster, and lunged forward, knocking Pete’s arm aside, so the bolt flew up into the trees instead. There was another blast, as splinters and leaves showered down on them all.

“Hey, watch it, willya?” Donald objected, and Goofy burst out, “You coulda hurt somebody with that fool thing!”   But Pete just grinned.

“Buncha tough guys, eh?  We’ll just see about that.”  His attention drifted away from Donald and Horace for a moment, and his smile turned nastier than ever.  “...A’course, I see ya ain’t all tough guys, neither. Cute little ladies oughta be careful walkin’ through the woods.  Ya might run into any sort of person.” He winked straight at Minnie, who grimaced. 

Mickey was furious.  “Back off! I - I ain’t warnin’ ya again!”

“ _ You _ -” Pete gestured broadly with the crossbow. “-ain’t warnin’  _ me  _ again?” 

“Yeah!” Donald raised his fists.  “We’re about ta teach ya a lesson, ya big palooka!”

“Oh, I’m shiverin’!

Mickey took Minnie by the shoulders and thrust her away from himself.  “Stay back, Minnie!” he barked. She looked dismayed.

“But, Mickey -!”  

“Look after ‘er, Pluto!”  He turned away before she could try to stop him, unwilling to let the others get into a brawl without him.  He had no idea whether any of that stuff about him challenging the Ghoul King in the past had happened the way Donald and the others had suggested, but as of five minutes ago, he finally knew one thing for sure: the Ghoul King knew who he was, and wanted him out of the way.  Why else would he have dropped him - and everyone - out into the middle of nowhere? They had to reach his castle, and nobody was going to stop them. Especially not a big blowhard like  _ this! _

Mickey took a flying leap, grabbing for the crossbow.  This seemed like a great idea for about half a second, until Pete saw him coming and backhanded him so hard it sent him crashing back into the fallen leaves.  Mickey heard Minnie cry his name, even felt blood dribbling from his lip where he must’ve bitten through it, but the metallic taste only made him angrier. He was up again in an instant, and as Pete turned to give the same treatment to a fuming Donald, he leaped on him again.  Both of his arms barely encircled one of Pete’s, but he didn’t care.

“We ain’t afraid of you!  We ain’t afraid of  _ nothin _ ’!”

“Geddoffa me, ya little - oof!”

A moment’s distraction was all Horace needed to land a solid punch on Pete’s jaw.  He stumbled back, and Mickey let go, dropping to the ground. Pete was startled to be sure, but he recovered quickly, rubbing his chin.  “...Yer gonna  _ pay _ fer that,” he snarled.  He swung his bow back into position and let off three bolts in quick succession.  The three girls, now on the backline, shrieked as blasts went off all around them, shattering more branches and sending rocks and clumps of earth flying in all directions.  Donald attacked him now with a roar, bill snapping shut around the big man’s meaty fingers. He gave a howl and flung him away, but there was a sharp yap from behind, and Mickey spun around, horrified.  Pluto had grasped Minnie’s dress with his teeth and was tugging to get her on her feet as she sat, coughing. Dust billowed up from around her. She must’ve lost her balance, but as Mickey watched, one of the trees Pete had struck gave a sickening groan.  A huge branch was breaking - and Minnie was right in its path.

“Minnie!”  Without thought, Mickey sprang toward her.  Minnie looked up, realizing what was about to happen - but it was obvious she wouldn’t roll clear in time.  She gave Pluto a desperate shove, curling herself into a tight ball. Mickey threw himself over her.

_ “NO!” _

There was a sickening sensation; but it wasn’t the feeling of a ton of broken wood crashing on top of them.  It felt more like being crushed by a giant rubber ball, a sick thud of reverberation that made Mickey’s head spin and his stomach twist.  He could feel the sound of it, a deep thrum that made his limbs feel like jelly, but after a second or two had gone by, he lifted his head and looked down into Minnie’s wide, scared eyes.  He felt dizzy. “W...wha?” he managed, looking around in a daze. There it was, the branch that had threatened to crush them, but it was laying flung out to one side. Mickey’s immediate feeling was that it must’ve bounced there, but that wasn’t possible.  Wood didn’t bounce. And yet how did it come to be there? It had been falling straight down on them….

A shout of warning from Goofy brought him back to his senses, but it came too late.  Mickey grunted as a huge fist grabbed him by the collar of his coat and flung him onto his back.

Pete’s pegleg landed on his chest, knocking the wind out of him.  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even move; he lay there gasping uselessly.  Minnie sat up.

“No, don’t!”

Pete leveled the crossbow straight at Mickey’s head. There was a faintly wild look in his eyes, and somehow Mickey knew he was capable of firing that bolt.

“Huh.  I t’ought for a second there ya might still have some fight left innya, but I guess ya don’t.”

Donald was back on his feet now too, but Daisy was holding onto his arm.  Clarabelle caught up with Horace now too, and her face was pale. She would’ve liked to teach that Pete a thing or two herself, but nobody dared move any closer, not while that crossbow was pointed at Mickey.  If anything happened to him… it was too dreadful to contemplate.

Pete leaned closer, and Mickey thought for a second his ribs would crack.  “Y’know...th’boss wanted you alive. But I’m thinkin’ maybe I’d got a better idea for you all along.  I oughta take care a’ you once an’ for all, magic or no magic.”

Mickey couldn’t breathe; his head was spinning.  Everything started to tingle, grey haze closing around the edges of his vision.  He couldn’t….

Something struck Pete from the side.  It was Pluto, who jumped in front of Mickey now, straddling his fallen master, and he gave a roar unlike any sound he’d made before. A blast of flame knocked Pete to the ground, and he wriggled backwards to get out of range before a second lick of fire scorched the grass where he’d been standing.  It took an instant for everyone else to thaw, but then they all moved at once. Minnie and Clarabelle hauled Mickey to his feet while the others clustered in front of him protectively. Nobody questioned it, it felt as natural as any action you could take - as natural as breath. Pete rubbed his singed face, clearly disoriented for a second before he struggled to regain his composure.

“Huh!  Not so tough without your little powers, are ya, Mousey?  Gotta have yer little pet babysit ya, eh?”

Mickey was still struggling to catch his breath, leaning heavily on Minnie’s arm which was looped under his, but he darted a dangerous look Pete’s way.  “What powers?” His voice was a hoarse rasp, but he stood up as straight as he could, would’ve lurched forward. In truth, he would’ve thrown himself on top of Pete and whaled on him if he’d had his way.  But Minnie held him back, the wisdom of which he wasn’t able to fully appreciate at the time. “ _ What powers?! _ ”  But Pete was poking at the earth with the top of his pegleg, seemingly deep in thought.

“I think we’ve all had just about enough fun fer one day.  Can’t go lettin’ ya get yerself smashed, th’ boss wouldn’t like that.  So I guess if I can’t pound ya, I’ll jus’ haveta keep ya someplace nice an’ safe so’s ya don’t hurt yerself.”

“Get that bow offa him!” Horace shouted.  Pete set it against the ground, leaned against it a moment.  “So long, Squeaky!”

He fired the bolt - straight down.  The rumble started almost immediately, but none of them understood right away what was happening.  Then Pete took a step back, and another. The ground began to shudder. Mickey flung an arm out.

“Hey!”

He didn’t even get the chance to warn anybody before the ground cracked open, split by the bolt from Pete’s bow.  The break shot beneath them, and for a second, Mickey thought they were going to be separated by the chasm opening below them.  But it didn’t stop with a gash. The opening widened like a mouth swallowing them all. He tried to shove Minnie to safety, but there wasn’t any safe place, and the forest floor vanished beneath him.  He caught her hand in one of his, scrabbled with the other to find some purchase somewhere; a tree root, anything at all. He managed to cling to the edge for just a moment, long enough to hear Pete’s laughter echoing overhead.

Mickey couldn’t hold on any longer.  His grip failed at last and he was falling into the dark - down, down, down….


	7. The Catacombs

Mickey’s head was throbbing.  Where was he? The last thing he remembered was falling...or maybe he hadn’t fallen at all.  He was holding tightly onto something, maybe he’d managed to grab hold of it to break the fall.  But then why was he laying on his back? Mickey lifted his head to look, but then laid it back again at once with a groan as a roar of pain went through him so intensely that he felt nauseous.  The thing he was holding tightly against his chest moved, and although he instinctively tried to keep it from slipping away, it got free at last. Then a little cold hand cupped his cheek, and a voice was saying his name from far away.  But it wasn’t far away, it was mere inches, and it was Minnie’s voice.

“Mickey?  Oh, Mickey!”

“It’s all right, he’s comin’ around now.  Just got the sense knocked out of him for a minute, that’s all.  Take it easy, Mick, you’ll be all right.”

Mickey let himself be helped up into a sitting position.  Minnie was there, obviously, and in fact was perched almost in his lap.  That was all right with Mickey. In fact, it would’ve been even better without everybody else peering at him from just over her shoulders, but he was glad to see them too.  Oh, but Pete - !

“What happened?  Where are we?” Mickey rubbed his aching head.

Goofy shook his head. “Dunno exactly.  That durned Captain Pete did somethin’ to the ground an’ then-”

“He caused a whole stupid earthquake’s what he did, he’s a big no-good tubby buffoon!” Donald raged.

“And we fell down here,” Daisy summarized.  Pluto was nosing at Mickey’s cheek, making concerned, whimpering sounds.  Mickey reached out and rubbed his head.

“...Thanks, Pal - ya really saved me back there.”  He looked up, holding a hand to his temple, the other still looped around Pluto’s neck. 

“W-why is it so dark?”

“I reckon the ground’s closed back in over us,” Horace said grimly.  Clarabelle rested a hand on her cheek. 

“That horrible bow must’ve been magic of some sort.  He’s trapped us down here in this awful spooky place!”

“Seems like a tunnel of some kind,” Horace agreed.  “Only it’s too dark to see much.”

“I hope there’s no bats down there,” Daisy mumbled.

“Probably bats and rats and snakes and all sortser vermin,” shuddered Clarabelle. 

“Now don’t go gettin’ yerself all worked up.”

“Whadder we gonna do now, Mick?” Goofy asked, turning back toward him.  “How’re we gonna find th’ Ghoul King’s castle now?”

“W-well...mebbe yer compass can show us how to get outta this place,” Mickey suggested.  Goofy shook his head.

“Afraid not.  Look here.” He produced something from his pocket and held it out.  For a long moment, Mickey couldn’t even tell what it was. Then he realized it  _ was _ Goofy’s compass, or what was left of it.  It was smashed all to pieces. “Musta happened when we fell, or when alla that stuff was fallen in on us.  I ain’t hurt none, but….”

“Y-yeah.  I guess yer compass is a goner,” Mickey finished for him as Goofy nodded sadly.  “I’m sorry, Goof.”

“Oh, no.  What’re we gonna do now?”  Daisy looked around. “I can hardly see three feet off down here.  How’re we ever gonna find the way out?”

“If there is a way out,” Donald pointed out glumly.  “Maybe we really  _ are  _ trapped down here.”

Mickey finally got to his feet.  His hat was laying nearby, very dusty and crumpled, and he bent carefully to pick it up and brush it off.  His head was still hurting, but it was getting better all the time, at least.

“What’re we gonna do, Mickey?” Minnie asked him quietly.  He slowly shook his head.

“I...I don’t know.”

“We’ve gotta keep on to find the Ghoul King.  Ain’t no helpin’ it,” offered Horace. Clarabelle wrung her hands.  

“But how do we get there with no compass?  We haven’t even got a light. I ain’t wanderin’ off into the pitch dark.”

“We’ll figure somethin’ out, we’ll have to.  Which way should we go, Mickey?”

“I toldja I don’t know.”

“Mebbe we could climb back up outta here somehow - so long as that Pete feller ain’t still around,” Goofy mumbled.  “Ya think ya could climb up there if I gave ya a boost, Mick?”

“Aw, don’t be crazy, we fell for ages,” Donald waved this off.  “We’ve gotta think of somethin’ else.” He crossed his arms, apparently doing just this, before darting a glance sideways.  “Er...what do  _ you _ think we should do, Mickey?” 

“I don’t know!  I toldja I don’t know!” Without warning, Mickey tore his hat off and slammed it to the ground with murderous force. Donald looked so startled that he forgot even to take offense.  Mickey paced one way, but there wasn’t much room, so he spun back around after a couple steps and then stopped. “I don’t know  _ what _ we should do. I dunno any more than any of you - in fact I know  _ less!”   _ He scrubbed a hand furiously over his dark head until it stood all up on end. “I can’t remember anything about who I am or what I’m supposed to do, I don’t even know what’s a lie an’ what isn’t!  Why are any of you even listening to me in the first place?! If I ever had any powers or - or anythin ‘ at all I could do to get us anyplace, I ain’t got it anymore! I can’t do  _ nothin’! _  I’m th’reason we’re stuck down here to start with!  I can’t fight, I can’t - I ain’t nothin’ or NObody, I’m just - I’m just-”

“You’re Mickey,” Minnie interrupted. She reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand down, and as Mickey watched, startled into silence, she began smoothing down the scruff he’d agitated. “I don’t know about anybody else, but I was terrified when I woke up out here, all by myself. I had no idea what to do, or even where to start. And then the first thing you know, I walked right into a swamp and nearly got dragged off by monsters. And then  _ you _ were there.”  She bent to catch his gaze, smiling up at him so brightly that it seemed to lift the gloom a little.  “...It doesn’t matter whether you have powers or not, or who you really are either. You’re still Mickey and I wouldn’t trade anything that’s happened - even if we  _ are _ stuck down here.  We’ll find some way out of this, I know we will.”

“Shucks!  ‘Course we will,” Goofy chimed in at once, even as Mickey rather limply let his clenched fists relax.  He couldn’t resist that smile of Minnie’s, let alone when she put her hand in his again like it belonged there.  “Heck, it ain’t yer fault alla this happened. Even if ya did pick a fight with the Ghoul King.”

“Yeah, cursin’ people’s fighting dirty,” Donald said firmly.  “Besides, we were bound to run into somebody who’d try to stop us sooner or later.  Ha! I was starting to get worried this Ghoul King was some kind of a sissy!”

Goofy smacked a fist into his palm. “Donald’s right.  This just means we must be sniffin’ up the right tree.  Th’ Ghoul King’s gettin’ nervous! That’s why he’s tryin’ to stop us, see?”

“And I guess we’re in the same mess no matter who’s responsible,” Daisy added, “But if anybody’s to blame, it’s that big blowhard Pete, not you.”

Clarabelle reached out to pat his ears, which was very embarrassing but vaguely pleasant, like finding favor with an auntie you were a little bit afraid of.  “Don’t worry, Mickey - Minnie’s right. We’re in this together now, the whole lot of us.”

“Guess we’ve stirred up enough trouble already to see the thing through,” Horace muttered, never one for mushy stuff.  Pluto couldn’t speak to join in, but he’d been huddled close to Mickey’s legs all along, and now he gave a couple quick barks.  Mickey looked around the group a moment, and as quickly as his moment of despair had come, it was gone again, and he felt almost silly about it.  Nuts, what was the matter with him anyway? He tucked his chin toward his chest.

“...Aw...shucks.  I guess we’ve just gotta keep tryin’ after all.  I’m sorry, I dunno what got inta me for a minute, but… whoever I am - I must be a pretty lucky guy to have a bunch of friends like you guys.”

“Spare me,” Horace muttered, although Clarabelle beamed.  Minnie was beaming too, though, and Mickey sort of cared more about her opinion than anybody else’s.  He squeezed her hand.

“Anyway, this is all real touching, but we’re still stuck down here,” Donald said after a pause, shuffling his feet on the damp ground.  “What are we gonna do? We can’t climb up and it’s too dark to see anything down the passageway. We’d need magic to get back out of here again.”

“Magic, huh?”  Mickey rubbed his chin.

“You got an idea, Mick?” Goofy asked hopefully.  Mickey squinted in thought.

“Well, I was just thinkin’...Maybe we do have magic after all.”  Mickey bent down and strained a moment before ripping a strip of fabric from the bottom of his coat.

“What on earth?” Clarabelle questioned, but Mickey just grinned.  There was a broken-off branch laying nearby that had taken the fall with them, and he picked it up, wrapping the fabric around one end.

“Now we jus’ need a flame,” he noted, and gave a short whistle.  “Pluto! C’mere, boy!” Pluto was there in an instant, tail wagging furiously in anticipation.  Mickey lowered the torch. “Go on, fella - give it a yell, huh?” Only too happy to oblige, Pluto drew in a deep breath and barked loudly.  A tongue of flame licked right out and caught Mickey’s torch, setting it ablaze. He lifted it with a hoot, rubbing Pluto’s ears affectionately.  “That’s the way! An’ how!” He swept the torch aloft, pointing it down the tunnel ahead of them. “Now we’re in business. C’mon, everybody! We’ll find the Ghoul King yet!”

 

~~~

 

It was easy to feel inspired by someone like Mickey, and for a while, everybody did feel better.  There was really only one way to go, so they set off at once. The tunnel they began creeping through was awfully dark, though, even with the torchlight, which also had an unpleasant habit of throwing alarm shadows over the walls as they went along.  Their initial confidence began to fade a little, especially when mysterious breezes would blow through the corridor, moaning distantly. At last, though, they came to a place where the tunnel had once been bricked up. Something or somebody had broken through it, and broken bricks lay scattered around the tunnel floor.  The opening was big enough to step through, although the darkness seemed even deeper on the other side. They all stopped and looked at it a moment.

“Don’t like the look of that,” Horace said at last, voicing what all of them were thinking.

“M-me neither,” Mickey admitted.  “...But there ain’t anywhere else to go.”  It was true, but nobody moved.

“I’m sure we’ll be all right.  So long as we all stick together and nobody gets lost,” said Minnie.

Mickey took a deep breath and stepped through the opening.  It was just as dark on the other side as he’d feared He stood there a moment while the others climbed through to join him, sweeping the torch slowly from one side to the other.  The chamber was darker, he quickly gathered, because it was much larger. It stretched off ahead of him into darkness, but there seemed to be arches alongside the passage walls now, although whether they led into tunnels of their own or were merely decorative, he couldn’t tell.  It was cold inside, and the air felt heavy and thick, as though it wasn’t used to being disturbed.

“What is this place?”  Minnie breathed, as Mickey gave her a hand to help her through the gap.  Pluto jumped up next, not needing any help, although his back legs scrabbled at the opening a moment before he got loose and hopped down on the other side.  He sniffed around at the ground a bit, and snorted a couple times, apparently displeased with what he found.

“It looks creepy.  Some sort of secret tunnels or something.  I bet the Ghoul King has something to do with these, too.”

“These ain’t just tunnels,” Mickey realized, sweeping the torch around again.  “...They’re  _ catacombs _ .”

“You mean … like where they bury people?” Daisy’s eyes went wide and she looked pale under her feathers.

“Or do rituals an’ stuff, I guess.”  Mickey let the torchlight fall, flickering, on the path leading down into one of the dark alcoves.  The shadows were too deep to see how far it went, and frankly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they’d find at the end.  

“Who do you suppose is buried here?” asked Goofy in hushed tones.  Minnie shook her head.

“I don’t know.  Important people, I s’pose.  Can’t be just anybody if there’s a whole big graveyard above ….”  Mickey trailed off, not liking to think too much of being down here in the catacombs with the cemetary up above them, surrounded on all sides.  Probably they were miles from there by now. Right? 

“I think you may be right,” Minnie agreed.  “Look up there.” She pointed up to the walls, which were covered with carvings depicting various scenes and creatures.  Mickey held up the torch to get a better view, and they could see trees and rivers, serpents and spiders and cats and some animals he couldn’t immediately name.  There were more macabre figures too, skulls and skeletons and the like, including a few that looked very much like the creatures they’d encountered out in the woods.

“Ooh, those give me the creeps,” Daisy shuddered. Clarabelle, the last to climb through and stand with the rest of them, nodded disapprovingly.

“It’s sorter obscene, if you ask me - nekkid skeletons everywhere.”

“Skeletons ain’t nekkid,” Horace objected.

“Well they surely aren’t dressed decent!”  Clarabelle almost pouted. “Anyway, what if it’s some sorter labyrinth in there?  I don’t wanna go wanderin’ around in the dark for the rest of my life!”

“A labyrinth’s somethin’ else,” Horace said firmly, although he looked a little green.  “Like a maze. Catacombs ain’t mazes.”

“Well, it looks pretty big, anyway,” said Clarabelle, not about to be cheated out of her fears.

“Awful dark down there too,” Goofy noted, squinting into the shadows.

“Well, for goodness’ sake, let’s not stand around here!  Let’s get moving so we can find the way out!” Daisy grabbed Donald’s hand and pulled him along to lead by example, and Mickey hurried to catch up before they walked out of the circle of torchlight.  It got quiet again as they walked down the still, silent corridor, and although nobody said anything about it, everyone knew that everybody else was glancing through those dark archways, half expecting to find something or someone looking back out at them.  Every so often, a distant sound would reach them - the drip of water from somewhere above, a faint flutter of wind, a barely-discernible scrape of rock, and they’d all stop, waiting with baited breath to see if the sound would repeat itself, or worse, come closer to them.  But it never did, and after a little while they would start moving again, maybe a little faster than before. Although the passage took several twists and turns, Mickey was pretty sure that they were sticking to the main channel. There didn’t seem to be any other real options.  That was why, after walking for some time, it alarmed him to notice suddenly that it seemed the passage had narrowed quite a bit. He didn’t think they’d turned off into a side tunnel, and he was about to say something to everyone else, when they all turned a corner and found themselves staring into a dead end.

For a few seconds, they just stared at the wall.  Then, with a sinking feeling in his gut, Mickey finally worked up the nerve to turn and look back at the others.  He wouldn’t have blamed any of them if they’d shot him dirty looks, but they just seemed as discouraged as he felt.  Pluto gave a faint whimper, but started at once sniffing all around the base of the wall, trying perhaps to see if there wasn’t some sort of a way to get through.

“Well, that’s just great.   _ Now _ what are we gonna do?” asked Donald at last.

“We’ll have to go back, I guess,” Mickey murmured.

“Back to where?”  Goofy scratched his head.  “I didn’t see any other way to go, unless we start searchin’ every nook and cranny we passed by.  That’d take weeks!”

“But there just has to be an exit somewhere, doesn’t there?” Daisy wrung her hands.

“Of course there is,” said Minnie, although Horace was shaking his head.

“It don’t look good - I don’t like this at all,” he said grimly.

“Well, what other choice to we have? We can’t just stay here.  If we haveta search this whole place….” Mickey trailed off, brow furrowing.  For just a second, he’d thought he heard….

_                  … are you here?   _

“Miss Minnie?  You all right?”  Goofy reached out and waved a hand at her, brow furrowed in concern.  Minnie’d gone very quiet, staring into the darkness, one hand closed around her necklace.  When Goofy spook, she blinked, then shook her head faintly.

“Oh - yes, I’m fine.  It’s just… I thought I heard something.”

“Huh?”  Goofy cocked his head, and they all stood in silence for a moment.  He stuck a finger in his ear. “I can’t hear nothin’.”

“I can,” said Mickey quietly.  The others turned to look at him, but he looked at Minnie.  “...Voices. I think it’s them - the spirits from the graveyard.”  Minnie looked back at him in dismay.

“The ones that tried to lure you off somewhere?!”  Donald stood up straight and lifted his fists, prepared to fight again.

Minnie put her arms around him protectively, and Mickey was a little ashamed over that - especially because he really did feel better with her close by.  He wrapped an arm around her waist though, tried to make himself as tall as possible, so at least he could make believe he was guarding her and not the other way around.

_                                ...So nice you came.  So happy. _

Mickey waved a hand in the air.  “Get away! I ain’t listenin’ to you anymore!”

_                 You’ll be safe here.  It’s quiet and nice. _

_     Don’t you like it here...with us…? _

“No!” Mickey snapped, not pausing to consider how it might look to anyone else, gesturing in the air and talking to someone nobody else could hear,with the possible exception of Minnie.  “We’ve gotta get outta here! Now lemme alone!”

There was silence for a second, but not the same kind of silence as before.  Mickey could almost sense them rustling around nearby, like they were thinking.

_                              ...Strange… unusual…. _

_            ...You’re different. _

_ But if you want to leave… _

_                              We’ll help you. _

“Aw, fer cripes’ sake, not you too - whaddya mean I’m different, different from….”  Mickey trailed off. He could see them again, those pale, misty forms. Clarabelle gave a yelp and pressed herself back against the wall, but glaring all the while; ready, perhaps, to sop them up with her hanky and wring them out.

“YOW!”  Goofy stumbled back as one of the figures materialized almost on top of him, and Pluto lowered his head, growling suspiciously.  Mickey swallowed hard. 

“N-now just stay calm everybody, don’t lose your heads.”

“L-lose our heads?” gulped Donald, and Mickey glared at him for this suggestion.  The whole group backed up a little bit. Mickey noticed that the flickering torchlight didn’t seem to affect the spirits at all, which probably made sense.  The torch was getting dimmer too. He knew it couldn’t burn forever, but he’d hoped it would last long enough for them to escape. The ghosts hovered silently for a moment, before the nearest one extended a slender hand and beckoned to him.  Mickey didn’t move.

_                               ...We can’t take you out of the catacombs. _

_               ….Others can. _

_                               We’ll send them to you. _

Everyone heard them this time.  “Aw, heck,” said Horace under his breath.

“What others?   _ Who _ others?” asked Daisy.

_                                         We’ll get them. _

_                      We’ll bring them here. _

“What?  Wait! Bring who here?!  Who are ya - wait!”

The spirits were already fading from view again.  Mickey took a step forward, but couldn’t stop them, and in a moment, they were apparently alone again.

“I don’t like this one little bit,” said Clarabelle.

“Yeah, who are they gonna find in a spooky place like this!”

“And who knows what they really want.”

“We’ve gotta get outta here, Mick!”

“I know, I know!  But how?” Mickey gestured with the torch.  “We’re lost. An’ our light’s dyin’ out.

“It’ll be all right - don’t panic.”  Minnie touched his arm. Mickey shuddered.

“I ain’t panicked!  I just ain’t about to stand here and let … and let … did you hear somethin’?”

They stood and listened.  Pluto cocked one ear, but then he lowered it again and slunk around to stand behind Mickey’s legs.  Something was definitely approaching in the darkness - something  _ big _ .  Whatever it was, it was scraping against the stone floor with each step, almost as if it were made of rock itself, or something else hard, like … like … bone?

“Come on,” Mickey said firmly.  We’re gettin’ outta here. We’ll go back the way we came if we have to.”  He seized Minnie’s hand and started off at a brisk pace. The others hurried to follow, unwilling to let that fading circle of torchlight leave them behind.  They hadn’t gone far, though, before they heard the sound again, that horrible scraping noise, and it seemed louder now, too. They walked a little faster. Mickey wasn’t even sure if they were retracing their steps or not; everything looked the same in the stark shadows.  Maybe it would be better to stop again. He was on the verge of saying so when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye - something  _ moving _ .  Pluto must’ve seen it too, because he stopped dead where he was and gave a little yap of alarm that froze the rest of the group.

“Oh no,” Mickey murmured.  His first instinct was to fling the torch as far away from himself as possible and then run the opposite direction, dragging Minnie along behind him.  But some remaining shred of common sense reminded him this would make things much worse instead of better, so he stood still, hardly daring to breathe, as the all-too-familiar forms of the strange skeletal creatures from the forest appeared in the farthest reaches of their torchlight.

There were three of them at least, and no telling how many more might be lurking in the dark.  Mickey shifted himself in front of Minnie. That familiar sense of despair washed over him again.  Why _ did _ it feel so familiar?  Every time things went wrong, he found himself in this same place all over again.  He wished he could apologize to her properly, to all of them. This was his fault, all of it, solely his.  If he’d been smarter,  _ stronger _ -

The nearest creature lowered its head with the same unsettling swiftness he recalled from their first encounter, and as Mickey held his breath, he felt a cold puff of air against his face.  After a moment, he understood what it would’ve meant if the air had been warm, and he realized the creature was breathing, or sniffing at him . It was studying him just like the first time in the woods, and Mickey suddenly wondered if somehow, improbable as it seemed, this really was the same creature who’d looked at him so closely before.

“...Don’t anybody move,” he dared to breathe at last, even though nobody was.  Minnie was holding his hand very tight. As Mickey waited, the creature lifted its hand, and knowing what was coming, Mickey braced himself.  He felt that cold, boney finger brush over one of his ears, and then, when it twitched uncontrollably, the creature paused. Then it gave his ear a curious tug.  Mickey recoiled without thinking.

“Hey!” he blurted, only to bite his lip hard.  The creature didn’t seem to mind, though. It gave his ear another squeeze or two, then sniffed at it with that cold rush of air, and then drew back.  One of the skeletons behind made a shrill, scraping sound, and the one in front seemed to answer it, almost like they were talking together.

“W-whaddya suppose they’re doing?” Donald whispered.

“Probably decidin’ how they’re gonna divvy us up,” muttered Horace darkly.

Minnie had been silent until now, but Mickey felt her take in a breath.  “...I don’t think they’re going to hurt us,” she said quietly. “I think they’re going to help us.”

“HELP us?  Are you nuts?!”

“The ghosts said they were going to send someone to help us.”  Minnie looked up at the creatures. “I think  _ this _ is who they meant.”

“I don’t know about this, Minnie,” murmured Daisy.  Minnie gave her a little sympathetic look, but her eyes returned to Mickey.

“I think we should follow them.  They didn’t hurt us before - even though they had the chance.  I don’t think they’re really bad at all, even if they’re frightening.”

“Just ‘cause they don’t attack us straight off don’t mean they’re gonna end up bein’ friendly,” Mickey pointed out, keeping his eyes on the creatures as much as possible, trying to lean out of their reach without being obvious about it.

“I know.  But I’m sure of it.  Mickey,” she almost pleaded.  “We’ve just got to trust them.”

“Ain’t sure we got much choice,” Goofy pointed out.  “We can’t outrun ‘em down here, and we ain’t got anything to scare ‘em off with.”

Mickey looked up at the creatures, now fanned around them in a semicircle.  It was crazy, was what it was. But Minnie was so insistent. He frowned. “...Do you know the way outta here?” he asked them at last.  They probably couldn’t even understand a word he was saying. Indeed, the middle creature tilted its head, as the other two leaned a bit closer, clattering to each other.  One of them reached out towards him again, and he waved it off. “Q-quit clownin’ around. This is serious. We’ve gotta get outta here, so - so - so if ya ain’t gonna help us, ya better get outta our way - see?”

The creatures conferred with one another again, and then one of them reached out toward Minnie.  Mickey darted out to get in front of her, but Minnie caught his sleeve and held him back. “Wait.”  She pushed him gently out of the way. “Trust me,” she repeated firmly, even as Mickey shook his head in dismay.  The creature shot Mickey what seemed to him to be a distrustful look, then reached for Minnie again. It took every ounce of Mickey’s nerve to watch as the creature lifted Minnie off her feet.  She didn’t look too sure of things herself, especially when the creature swept her up toward its face, but then a moment later, it had deposited her on its shoulder and was reaching out for Mickey.  Minnie caught ahold of one of its horns to keep her balance, and before Mickey had time to think about it too much, that strong, boney hand had lifted him up to the other shoulder. He caught the other horn and sat there, stomach churning.  At about this moment, the torch finally flickered out completely, and it got very dark for a few seconds. Then a faint red glow lit up the chamber, and they stood there blinking as it got stronger. It was Minnie’s necklace again.

“Gosh, lookit that,” Goofy remarked.  Donald just scowled.

“How come it couldn’t have done that before?  WHOA! Hey, back off!” One of the creatures was reaching for him now, and he jumped back.  Mickey shook his head, letting the torch drop to the ground now that it was useless.

“I think Minnie might be right, Donald!  Anyway, we don’t got much choice. Pluto!  C’mere, boy!” He hung off the creature’s shoulder enough to reach down and beckon for the pup.  He expected Pluto to hang back, but he hesitated only a moment before jumping up, back legs scrabbling for purchase a moment before Mickey hauled him up to sit half-sprawled on top of him.  The second creature took charge of Donald, Daisy and Goofy, while the third had Clarabelle and Horace unhappily settled after a moment. The first of the group gave a shrill little clacking noise, and then turned, and they set off like that.  Minnie shot Mickey a little smile, and he smiled back the best he could in the soft red light, but he sure hoped they weren’t making an awful mistake. He did trust Minnie, of course he did. But it was just about the strangest experience of their adventure so far, huddling on those beasts’ shoulders as they swept off into the tunnels.  They moved just as fast as it had seemed, so quickly that it was impossible to keep track of where they were. Mickey’d kind of hoped he could at least pick out some landmarks in case the creatures led them into some sort of trap, but of course he couldn’t, so after a little while he just sighed, holding onto Pluto to make sure he didn’t slip, and glanced Minnie’s way again.  She was looking back at him.

“...How’d you know they were really gonna help us?” he asked her quietly.  “After what happened before?”

Minnie didn’t answer right away.  She was fingering her necklace again with the hand that wasn’t holding onto the creature’s long horn.  “...I’m not sure,” she finally admitted. “I was afraid of the ghosts when they were taking you away from me.  But even then, I’m not sure they meant any harm. I wish I understood it, but I just don’t think they’re really bad.”

“Th’Professor said they serve the Ghoul King,” he reminded her.  “Just like that Pete guy.”

“I know.”  Her brow was furrowed.  “But I don’t think they’re like him at all.  You can feel it too, can’t you?”

Mickey thought about that - about how safe he’d felt back in the graveyard.  But that had been some sort of trick, had to be. “I don’t know what I feel,” he murmured.  “Feels like … there’s still just a big piece of me that’s missing. Not just something I can’t remember, it’s bigger’n that.”  He opened and closed his hand, thinking, and for a moment, he was so distracted that he didn’t notice the way Minnie was studying him.  The red light of her necklace would’ve hidden the pink tinge of her cheeks anyway.

“By the way,” she said after a pause.  “Back there - w-when Pete attacked us. I never really got the chance to thank you.  F-for saving me, I mean.”

“Savin’ you?”  Mickey blinked.  He couldn’t think what she meant for a moment, then he remembered.  The falling branch, that bizarre bouncing sensation. “O-oh, well, that was nothin’.  I couldn’t just letcha - anybody woulda done the same thing.”

“I don’t think just anybody  _ could _ have,” said Minnie, and Mickey coughed bashfully.  He  _ did _ recall, very clearly, the sensation of Minnie’s little body curled up beneath his, and now he was trying to forget it again, at least for the moment.

“Just glad you’re all right, that’s all.”

“Me too,” she smiled, and he knew she meant it in return, about him.  She really was incredibly beautiful, even in the dark like this. He looked at her in silence until she turned shyly away.

~~~

 

It’s funny how quickly people adapt to things.  Mickey and his friends were, by now, pretty used to not remembering anything about their lives before the past few days, or however long it had actually been since they’d met in the woods.  Even then, it had taken a while. Now, by the time they began to notice the gloom in the catacombs was starting to lift a little, everyone had almost forgotten how absurd it would’ve seemed even six hours ago, to think they would be riding on the backs of these macabre creatures as disinterestedly as if they were horses.  But that was the case, because even Clarabelle, probably the most skeptical of them all, had settled in as well as she could, only sitting up straight again now, when a distinct beam of grey light became visible up ahead of them.

“Look!”  She pointed.  Horace, almost napping, blinked owlishly to see where she was indicating.  

“Wow, wouldja lookit that?  I think we’re almost there!” cheered Goofy.

“Yeah, wherever ‘there’ is.”  Donald squinted. The creatures carried them toward the growing light until it became clear that the light was coming through a passage which narrowed sharply.  It wasn’t until they came right up to it that Mickey could see there was a staircase leading upwards. The creatures came to a stop, turning back to look up at their passengers.  Mickey took the hint, coaxing Pluto to jump down before swinging to the ground himself. He reached back up to help Minnie, lifting her by the waist to set her on her feet. As he did, he became aware of the creature looking at him expectantly, and he felt a little embarrassed then, even if he wasn’t sure why.

“Er...thanks,” he offered at last, still resting a hand protectively on Minnie’s back as she straightened her dress.  The creature didn’t move, and Mickey cleared his throat. The others had all dismounted by now, but the creatures were still just standing there.  He glanced around, but since nobody else seemed to be willing to make the first move, it fell to him. He opened and closed a hand, and then, not knowing what else to do, he reached up hesitantly.  The beast who’d served as his own mount lowered its head and, grimacing nervously, Mickey patted a hand shortly against its cold, smooth nose, or at least where he imagined its nose ought to be. It made a raspy sound, and with a resigned shrug, he went ahead and reached under its chin to give it a scratch there too, like he would’ve with Pluto.  It turned its head almost all the way upside down, chasing his fingers, and Mickey found himself chuckling.

“...Well, whaddya know.  I don’t get alla this, but - heck, ya really ain’t so bad after all, are ya?  Thanks fer helpin’ us outta here. If we ever do get outta this mess, why … I guess we’ll be friends after all, huh?  Whoa!” He jumped back, startled, as all three creatures started to shriek at him, but after a few heart-pounding seconds, he understood they were just talking to him in their way, and relaxed again.  Minnie had reached out now too, rubbing her hands across ‘their’ creatures ribs .

“Awww, you’re just a bunch of big softies - aren’tcha?”  She giggled warmly. Goofy laughed.

“ Make good pets, if ya think about it.  Must be cheap ta feed, too.” He patted a creature too, and it turned to peer at Donald with its empty sockets, but he jammed his hands in his pockets and pretended not to see.  The third animal looked toward Horace and Clarabelle, but Horace shook his head firmly.

“Thanks, but nothin’ doin’.”

“C’mon, Pluto!”  Mickey gave a little whistle, and Pluto, who’d been playfully darting around one of the creature’s legs, barked obediently, circling around the trio of them one last time before bounding after his master.  They all started for the staircase, but Mickey looked back to see them one more time, standing down there, and he couldn’t help waving at them. They looked at each other curiously, then raised their boney hands and waved back in imitation.  He shook his head. Darndest thing.

They made their way up the stairs, which were narrow and steep, as the light got stronger, even if it never really got bright.  Eventually, it became clear that it was nighttime again, but a bright, moonlit night, and at last, they could see the top of the stairs, barred by a gate.  It was one more obstacle, but after everything they’d faced, it seemed like a surmountable one, and Mickey stepped onto the landing with a hopeful feeling. It did dim a bit when, before he had time to do more than give Minnie his hand to bring her up alongside him, he caught sight of two suits of armor standing on each side of the gate, their spears crossed in front of the bars as if guarding it.

“Who goes there?!” demanded a girlish voice.  He jumped back as the two suits of armor came to life, moving in sync with each other - but in reverse, one turning to the left as the other turned to the right.

“Are you there?  We can’t see you.”  The left knight groped in front of herself.  Mickey pressed himself back against the wall, threw an arm across Minnie too, just in case.  The knights froze a second, then in unison, threw out a pair of pointing fingers straight at the adventurers.

“There you are!” they said together.

“State your business!”

“Friend or foe?”

Mickey shot a look at Minnie, but she only shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head helplessly.  They didn’t seem to have noticed the rest of the party, frozen in the shadows at the top of the stairs, so Mickey motioned for them to stay put for the present, and wrinkled his nose.  “Er...we’re friends,” he said shortly, mouth pressing out into a line. The knights stood up straight.

“Oh - we like his voice!”

“Yes, he sounds trustworthy - like a friend!”  They rattled a little closer. Mickey wondered if they would be able to see if those visors were lifted, but neither one of them made any move to lift them and he certainly wasn’t about to suggest it.  The bottom halves of their faces, which were visible, looked more like two porcelain dolls than people. “Why have you come here? What do you want?”

Mickey hesitated again.  It seemed risky to say too much, particularly with those spears so close by, but on the other hand, the pair certainly seemed talkative enough.  Maybe it was worth taking a risk. Even so, he glanced back one more time, hoping to ensure Minnie was well out of their range should they decide to go wildly swinging any sharp objects around.  “Er… we...we’re lookin’ for the Ghoul King.”

The two knights clapped to attention, standing up straight.

“The Ghoul King is mighty!” said the left knight at once.

“The Ghoul King is magical!” chimed in the right.

“We love the Ghoul King!” they declared together.

“But we’ll punish his enemies,” warned the first.

“Those who would try to steal his power.”

“Claim it for their own.”

“But we won’t allow it!”

“No, we won’t allow it!”  This together again. Mickey broke in before they could start over from the top, which he wouldn’t have put past them.

“We ain’t got any quarrel with the Ghoul King - that we know of,” he said quickly, shooting a look toward Minnie. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. At any rate, it seemed to please the knights, and they gave each other a satisfied little nod. “Anyways,” Mickey added, as if he’d just thought of it, “how could anybody take his power away? He’s the king, after all. Ain’t he more powerful than anybody?”

“Oh, yes!” The knights clapped their hands together, resulting in a tooth-rattling clatter. “The Ghoul King’s magic is stronger than anybody’s!”

“ So why would anybody try to take his power, then?  Seems pretty dangerous to me.”

“Some have tried.”

“But none have defeated  _ our _ King!” They giggled to one another.

Mickey exchanged a look with Minnie. “The Ghoul King sounds like a pretty scary kind of guy.”

The knights looked at each other - or Mickey assumed they were looking at each other, anyway - and gave a laugh that was almost a simper.  “He’s the scariest!”

“The spookiest!”

“He’s the greatest ghoul of them all!”

“Wow, he sounds like a pretty incredible guy.”  Mickey scratched his cheek. “Er...is it a long way to his castle from here…?”

“A long way?”

“To his castle?”  The knights exchanged a look, even though they couldn’t apparently see much of anything with their helmets on, and then laughed in unison.

“Why, it’s on the top of the hill!”

“Just on the other side of this gate!”

Minnie sucked in a breath.  Mickey fought to keep his voice steady.  “O-oh, really? Well...gosh, we’d sure like to go through there, if… ya don’t mind too much.”

The knights tapped their chins thoughtfully.  “Well...I suppose we could let you go through,” said the first after a moment.

“So long as you’re really friends.”

“Others have tried to pass this way.  They weren’t friends at all.”

“Ask ‘em who,” Donald hissed over Mickey’s shoulder.  Mickey waved him back.

“Erm - others? What sorta others?”

“The Ghoul King’s enemies.”  The knights clapped their spears together.  “Down with his enemies!” The knight on the left leaned forward.  “...We wouldn’t let  _ them _ through.  Never!”

“Not like last time,” said the knight on the right, shaking her head.

“Last time?” Minnie prompted.

“Yes!  The stranger!  The sorcerer! The rascal!”

“He wanted to challenge the Ghoul King.”

“To steal his power!”

“To steal his crown!”

“But we’ll never allow that!” they said together.  But something they’d just said caught Mickey up short.  He shook his head.

“Hang on a second. Are you sayin’... that anybody who challenges the Ghoul King … they  _ become _ the Ghoul King if they win?”

“Of course,” nodded the knight on the left.

“The laws of magic must be obeyed,” agreed the knight on the right.

“Whoever sits on the throne when the full moon rises is King!”

Mickey’s lips parted silently, and he stood there a moment in stunned silence until Minnie tugged his sleeve.  He cleared his throat. “Er… w-well, that sounds pretty serious,” he agreed weakly. “But we just wanna talk to the Ghoul King.  We think maybe he can … help us.”

“Will you let us pass through the gate?  Please?” Minnie asked them. They glanced at each other.

“Oo!  Another friend!”

“We like her voice, too.”

“I suppose we could let them through, since they’re friends.”

“The Ghoul King won’t mind seeing friends.”

The two knights crossed their spears, uncrossed them, gave a little shout, and then rammed the base of the two spears backwards into the gate. It burst open with a loud squawk of rusty metal.  Mickey winced, but offered a faint little smile.

“Gee - thanks a whole lot,” he said, stepping aside to usher the others hastily through before the knights changed their minds.  “Maybe we’ll see ya again sometime.”

“We like visitors,” cheered the knight on the left.  “We like to talk to them.”

“Most of the things that come up from the catacombs don’t like to talk,” confided the one on the right.  Mickey shuddered.

“I bet.  Well...b-be seein’ ya.  Bye.” He hurried through the gate, last of all, and the little party hurried away , glancing back every few feet.  The knights were still waving cheerfully, and kept on waving until the party was out of sight.

“His voice was familiar, wasn’t it?”

“We’ve heard his voice before.”

“But where?”

“If we stand here long enough, we’ll think of it.”

They resumed their positions, pondering.


	8. The Throne Room

The party made their way out of a small mausoleum which marked the entrance to the catacombs from this side, a much more elegant way of getting out - or in - than how they’d come to be there in the first place.  There was a winding path leading up a steep hill, so they began to follow it. Mickey was very quiet, and barely responded even when Pluto nosed his hand in concern.

“...This just keeps getting stranger and stranger,” offered Daisy after a little while.  Goofy, obviously glad for any conversation, nodded his head.

“You said it.  I can’t make heads or tails outta the whole thing.  Ev’ry time I think I know what to expect, somethin’ crazy happens.”

“I just wanna know what’s liable to kill us and what’s not,” Donald shook his head.

“That’s just what I can’t figger out.”  Goofy squinted. “Apart from that Cap’n Pete fella, an’ that witch from b’fore, alla them spooks an’ spirits ain’t done us much harm.”

“They’ve all been friendly,” Minnie murmured.  “Even those swamp monsters. I’m sure now that they didn’t mean any harm.  I don’t think this place is half so frightening as we thought it was.”

“But why’d the Ghoul King send that creep after us, then?  Why’d he steal our memories away?” Donald tugged at his collar.  “We musta made him sore  _ some _ how.”

They walked for a little while.

“Mebbe we’re  _ all  _ ghosts,” said Horace suddenly. Clarabelle gasped. 

“Oh, Horace! Don’t say such awful things!”

“Why not?” He stopped walking. “Why not?” He repeated. “I can’t be the only one who’s been thinking there’s something darned screwy about all this. An’ that’s about as good an explanation as any I ken think of. We’ve all died an’ we’re ghosts an’ that’s why we can’t remember nothin’. This is some sorta whatcha-ma-callit, and we’re stuck here with the spooks.”

“Purgatory?” Goofy offered mournfully, earning him a look askance from Donald. Horace snapped his fingers. 

“That’s it! Purgatory! Probably we all of us did a lot of crimes while we was alive.”

“ _ Oh,  _ Horace!”

“I ain’t passing’ judgement! Likely ya had good reason!”

“We ain’t dead criminals an’ we ain’t in purgatory neither,” interrupted Mickey before Clarabelle could clobber Horace, which she looked liable to do.  Horace looked almost disappointed, but shrugged his shoulders. It made no difference to  _ him _ at this point.  Mickey was looking down at his hands again, opening and closing them absentmindedly.

“...It’s gotta be me,” he said at last.  “Like that witch said. I did somethin’ that made alla this happen.  I ken feel it.” 

Pluto sat down at his feet, leaning his head against Mickey’s legs.  He stroked the pup’s ears. “...I challenged him,” Mickey said at last, voicing what he knew everyone else must’ve been thinking.  He expected - half-hoped - that the words would trigger something, that he would feel something. But he didn’t. “...It’s the only explanation.  I challenged the Ghoul King, an’ I lost. I just … I don’t know  _ why _ .”

Nobody spoke for a little while.  “What are we going to do, Mickey?” Minnie murmured at last.

“I dunno.”  He removed his hat, massaging his forehead with both hands.  “...I figured all along if we could just break this curse, that’d solve everything and we could all go back to - whatever it was we were doin’ before.  But I never thought it’d mean  _ really _ claimin’ his power.  Becomin’ the Ghoul King … I dunno what that even means.”

“Sounds shady.  Liable to corrupt a fella somehow.”  Horace shook his head.

“If it means anything might happen to Mickey, maybe it’s better if we don’t get our memories back at all.”  Minnie turned to look up at him, brow furrowed. “I don’t know about any of the rest of you, but it’s not worth it - it couldn’t possibly be worth it.”  She reached out to rest her hands on his chest, hesitated. “...You must’ve had your reasons for fighting him, but - but if anything were to happen to you now, I -”

“Hey, calm down.  Nothin’ bad’s gonna happen to me, no matter what.  I just won’t let it, that’s all.” As if he could stop it - as if he’d stopped it the last time.  That wasn’t the point; Mickey would’ve said anything to make her feel better about it. He reached out without thinking, second-guessed himself, then brushed a finger across her cheek anyway.  She turned toward his touch, but her eyes didn’t look any less troubled. Mickey tried to smile, nudging her shoulder so they could start walking again. They went on a few more minutes until, almost without realizing they were so close, they gained the crest of the hill and stopped short.  There, just ahead of them was a little plateau, and then the path went up again - and at the top of the hill was a dark castle, rising tall and silent and still against the night sky. Pluto started barking madly, leaping around Mickey’s feet. 

“The Ghoul King’s castle,” breathed Minnie, and they all stood to look at it for a long, quiet moment.  It was real. It was right in front of them. They’d made it. It was so abrupt that it felt like ascending a staircase in the dark and believing there was one more step.  All of a sudden, they were just  _ there _ .

“Well, gang… I guess this is it,” Mickey finally offered.  He didn’t really feel up to making any sort of speech, but everyone had stood still for so long, looking at him, that he felt it might be the only way to get them moving again.  Or maybe everyone else, like him, was a little afraid to go further. There’d be no turning back from whatever they found, he knew that. Maybe he was talking to get _ himself _ moving, more than anyone else.  Pluto, perhaps sensing his unease, nudged his head up under Mickey’s hand to be stroked, and Mickey obliged, although a little absentmindedly.

“Funny, but … I almost feel sorter anxious,” Goofy admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sure there’s nothing to be worried about,” said Daisy, but she didn’t look at all convinced and she was holding onto Donald’s hand.  Even more significant, he was holding hers back, and he didn’t offer a derisive laugh at this concern.

“We can handle the likes of him,” he said simply, and although no one said it, they all felt the same stab of indignation towards that  _ him _ , even if they couldn’t have explained why.

“Sure we can.  Hurdled over everything he threw at us,” Horace agreed.

“I’ll be glad to get it over with, anyway.”  Clarabelle squinted up at the castle.

“We’ll finally get our memories back.  Figure out what all this means,” Minnie said quietly, looking at Mickey.  He nodded.

“...Figure out who we really are.”  They lingered a moment more, looking up at the castle, and then he shook his head.  “Come on, everybody. Let’s go.”

The conviction in his voice seemed to break the spell that had descended over the group, and everyone seemed to take in a breath at once.  They started up the hill together, Mickey leading the way.

This was it, he could feel it.  The answers were right up there.  Soon he’d know who he really was and what this mess was about, and … if he really had caused so much trouble for everyone else.  There had to be a way he could fix it all, make things right. Make up for putting them through this. Especially Minnie.

Mickey glanced her way.  She was marching along just as stoutly as everyone else.  He wasn’t sure quite what made him do it, but Mickey suddenly found that he couldn’t go any farther without saying … something.  He slowed down a little bit, just enough to let the others outpace him around a little curve in the trail, and then he cleared his throat.

“Hey, Minnie?”  He caught her hand and slowed until he’d stopped completely.  She stopped too, turning back to face him.

“Yes?”  When she caught the look in his eyes, Minnie turned more completely.  Mickey waited a beat, let the others get a few more steps on ahead, before he reached out slowly and took her other hand too, struggling to find the words.

“Say...I...I dunno what’s gonna happen after this.  I mean, once we finally get in there an’ … once we meet the Ghoul King.  I dunno what we’re gonna find out. But no matter what happens, an’ no matter ...no matter who we were - who we are… even if we didn’t know each other back then, we ….”  His eyes drifted up to find hers. “...We know each other now. An’...n-no matter what, I … I ….”

He wished he knew how to just say what he meant, that it wouldn’t matter, that the way he felt about her - how could anything change that?  And somehow, as he watched her, saw her pink lips part and her eyes study him so closely, he felt like she understood anyway. Hadn’t it felt like she knew him better than anyone, almost from the moment she’d laid eyes on him?

“Mickey.” 

“Hm?”

He was waiting for her to say something, and when she seemed to hesitate, he leaned closer in case she wanted to tell him more privately, lest their voices carry.  But Minnie didn’t say anything. Before he understood what was happening, he felt her grasp his shirt and then the next thing he knew about was her mouth, warm and soft, against his.  

He’d been an idiot until that moment.  He knew he was, because if he hadn’t been, he would’ve kissed her like this all the way back in the dark swamp, when she sat there with muck dripping down her face, looking up at him with her soft, gentle brown eyes.  But he wasn’t an idiot anymore, and he took her cheek in his hand and let that kiss melt against his tongue. It felt as familiar as the breath in his chest, holding Minnie that way, and when he finally felt her ease back onto the flats of her feet, he opened his eyes slowly and looked at her.  He’d known before, of course, that he could love Minnie as easily as falling into a hole, but he hadn’t known until now that he’d already fallen.

“Gosh,” he managed at last.  Minnie blushed becomingly. 

“I’m not afraid,” she murmured.  “I believe in you, Mickey.”

What on earth had he ever done to earn a thing like that?  He couldn’t summon a single example, but maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.  His hands had found hers again, somehow, and he squeezed them. “W-well, I … I’ll do my best,” he stammered, and then, immediately deciding that this wasn’t half good enough, he stood up a little straighter.  “..I’ll make it right. I promise,” he concluded. 

_ I promise!  _  For just a moment, it felt so familiar… like he’d said it before.  He felt a little stab of something, but couldn’t place it. Minnie smiled at him anyway.

“Hey!  Are you two comin’ or not?”  Mickey jumped guiltily as Donald yelled back to them, but he smiled back at Minnie anyway.

“Y-yeah!  We’re comin’!”  He scrambled after the others, Minnie’s hand closed in his.

 

~~~

  
  


When Pete entered the throne room, he could sense right away that he wasn’t going to get the warm welcome he’d anticipated.  It started off right away, just as soon as the figure seated on the throne caught sight of him.

“Ah, Captain Pete.”  There was a tone in the dark one’s voice that Pete didn’t quite appreciate, although he couldn’t immediately discern what was the matter with it.  It was often hard to tell exactly what the master was thinking, but sometimes getting a sniff of it was worse than having no idea, because the harder it was to tell, the more convinced you got that something was really wrong.  Like right now, for instance. There was something in that voice which sounded almost like sarcasm. “Thank you for coming so promptly. After your delightful little recounting of your encounter in the dark forest, and your  _ stunning  _ victory there, I felt as though you would appreciate being present when our guests arrive.  You’ve just managed to beat them here.”

“Huh? Guests?”  Pete blinked at this.  He wasn’t aware they were expecting anyone at all.  He remembered telling the master about thrashing the mouse and his friends in the woods well enough - but the master didn’t look half as pleased as he should’ve, if that was the topic at hand.  “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“What do you  _ think _ I’m talking about?”  The tone was even sharper now, bitter.  “Our little  _ friend _ and the whole sniffling lot of them!”

“They ain’t still down in the catacombs?”  Pete looked genuinely surprised.

“Not only  _ aren’t  _ they trapped in the catacombs - they’re practically at the castle doors.”

“What?!  But - that’s impossible! I seen ‘em sealed up down there myself!”

The master gestured in visible disgust.  “Perhaps you’d care to see for yourself?”  He indicated one of the windows at the front of the room, the ones that looked down the hill toward the forest beyond.  Pete didn’t move immediately, still disbelieving, but when the master was silent, his confidence wavered, and he ran to the window to look out.  Sure enough, the little group was visible from here, the whole lot of them. Pete growled. “Why those rotten little - they musta used magic somehow!  Of all th’ - I warned ya about this, ya know, I told ya if ya didn’t squish that little pill once an’ for all -”

“ENOUGH!  Your bungling has already endangered everything we’ve worked for!”  There was a sharp crash. A vase which had been standing within arms’ reach of the throne lay in pieces just to one side of where Captain Pete stood. He’d ducked, of course, when he felt it whistle past his ear, but felt resentful anyway.  He faced the throne again, jabbed a finger at his own chest.

“Now look, I done everything like you wanted, and it ain’t my fault if you don’t like it. Can I help it if tha little creep keeps getting lucky, huh? I told ya in the first place to just get rid of him an’ all his little pals. Ya keep saying ya can’t do it, but if it were  _ my _ business, I’d  _ find _ a way to take care of the mouse once an’ for all.”

“You’re absolutely correct. It’s  _ not _ your business. And perhaps that’s where I’ve gone wrong thus far after all.”  He drew himself to his feet, a dark shadow that stretched itself across the room.  Pete rested a hand near the crossbow on his belt just in case. He was no fool.

“Whattya mean?”

“Since you’ve demonstrated your absolute incompetence in subduing the mouse, there’s only one option left open to me.  I’m going to see to this matter myself.”

“Then ya don’t want me to-“

“What I want is for you to keep your mouth shut and do precisely as you’re told.” The master seemed to take efforts to collect himself, and finally he sat back down, slumping against the throne in dark thought. “...There’s still time left before the full moon rises.  Perhaps, in the end, it’s better this way.”

“Ya ain’t gonna try an’ stop him?”  

The dark one shook his head.  “No. Let them come. The mouse, all of them. I have a plan.”

 

~~~

 

The Ghoul King’s Castle was just as massive up close as it had appeared from the bottom of the hill.  It became clear now why it had looked so dark before; it was made of a black stone that almost looked like crystal.  The sky had become cloudy, so there wasn’t much light, but the whole place must’ve sparkled when the stars were out.  Mickey had kind of expected a fortress of rock, sinister and unwelcoming, but it was actually almost pretty. It had tall windows of stained glass on the upper floors, and they must’ve shone in the moonlight too.  It felt … almost familiar….

“Makes me sorta mad, thinkin’ of that Ghoul King sittin’ comfy and cozy in there while we’ve been trudging all over creation,” said Clarabelle.

“Hmph!  He won’t stay comfy very long once I get my hands on him,” Daisy huffed.

“Yeah, well, that ain’t the half of our problems right now.  How’re we gonna get in this place ?” Donald squinted upwards.  “It looks shut up pretty tight. Maybe we can sneak in somewhere.” 

Horace looked doubtful.  “...Liable to be crawlin’ with magic, a place like this.  Prob’ly need magic to get inside.” A shadow passed over his face for a moment.  Mickey felt it too, but like so many of his impressions over the past few hours or days, he couldn’t make sense of it, so let it pass.

“I wonder if there’s a back door,” Daisy was musing.  “Or a cellar?”

“Or a window we could get through,” Goofy suggested.  Mickey stood thoughtfully, watching as Pluto went up to the door, sniffing away, and then rose up on his back paws to rest the front ones against the doors.  He turned back to look at Mickey brightly, tail wagging. He must’ve understood they’d arrived where they wanted to go, Mickey thought, and didn’t know any better than to be happy about it.  He wished he could feel the same way. 

And yet...that was sort of odd, too.  Pluto’d always shown such a good sense of things, or so it seemed to him.  Mickey stepped forward as the others studied the castle’s apparently impenetrable walls, and almost without thinking, he reached out to touch the doors himself.

Immediately, there was a faint rumble, low at first, but quickly growing louder, and he yanked his hand back.  All of them scrambled back then, as the heavy doors trembled, then slowly creaked open. Donald gave a low whistle and Goofy shook his head faintly.

“Well...that was easier than I thought.”  He tried to laugh but it came out a little flat.  “...Ya think he knows we’re here?”

“I’d say mebbe he was expectin’ us.”  Mickey looked grim. The possibility of this hadn’t struck him so clearly before, but now it seemed obvious.  Captain Pete had found them without apparent difficulty. If he was the Ghoul King’s servant, then he must’ve told his master all about them by now.  Were they blundering straight into a trap? But what other choice did they have? Had they ever had a choice, all along…? 

_ I’ll protect you. _

Minnie was at his side; she always was, wasn’t she?  He glanced at her, and she gave him a faint nod. It was enough.  He stood up straight. “...C’mon. I’m goin’ in. We’re gonna sort this out once an’ for all.”

They entered the castle cautiously, peering into the shadows, prepared for enemies or monsters to appear at any moment.  But it was very quiet inside the entry hall. There were sconces on the walls to their left and right, neat rows of them, made of a black crystal like the outer walls of the castle.  As they approached, the pair on each side of them sprang to life, throwing flashes of light in all directions. They all stopped short, listening - but there was no sound, and it seemed like the fire itself must’ve been magic, drawn to life by their presence alone.  They were beautiful, in their own way. Before them was a broad staircase leading deeper into the castle, and Mickey knew that they would need to climb it even before Horace murmured,

“Seems pretty quiet down here.”

They moved toward the staircase, sconces flickering on two by two as they reached the steps and began to climb.  It was all familiar, Mickey noted, looking around them, in that same ephemeral way that so many things felt familiar to him - on the tip of his tongue, but vanishing away when he tried to grasp for it.  He’d been here before, he was certain of that - it felt as though he could’ve described what was behind every door, around every corner, if he’d just had a scrap of something to start with. And yet it wasn’t quite right.  That missing step feeling was stronger than ever as they gained the top of the staircase and the sconces led them down a wide hallway. It would lead them to the throne room, Mickey knew. Whether this was obvious or he just  _ knew _ it, he couldn’t begin to say.  But it felt different, like a dream, where everything was familiar, but scrambled around and nothing in its proper place, familiar doors opening to reveal the wrong room on the other side.

At the end of the upper hallway was a broad set of double doors.  They were closed, but as Mickey and his friends approached, the doors opened with a faint creak, as if loosened by the wind and nothing more.  He knew that wasn’t the case. He also knew that whatever they’d been seeking must be on the other side of that door. Mickey looked at Minnie one more time.  Her normally rosy cheeks looked very pale, but she nodded. He glanced toward the others as well, and knew they felt the same. Pluto gave a soft whine, but he was sticking close to Mickey’s legs, prepared for whatever they might find.  So, taking a deep breath, Mickey advanced and pushed the door open.

It was so dark, that for a moment, he could see nothing.  Then a light sprang up, and another, until he could see that the room was being slowly illuminated by torches set into the walls much like the sconces had been.  That was wrong too. There shouldn’t have been torches - there should’ve been more crystal sconces, bigger, brighter ones. Funny he should feel so sure about something silly like that.  But his attention was quickly drawn elsewhere.

 

A figure was seated on the throne, dark and mysterious, hidden in the dim light flickering across the room.  Pluto lowered his head almost to the ground, and a low, threatening growl rumbled from his chest. Mickey’s heart was thumping loudly, yet he didn’t feel afraid.  He felt…  _ resentful _ . He studied the man closely, trying to remember.  He  _ should  _ remember, shouldn’t he?  This, he knew, was the Ghoul King himself.  They must’ve met before this. But try as he might, Mickey couldn’t summon any sort of recollection.  Just that feeling. He couldn’t even call it hatred; was the king his enemy? It wasn’t hate, it was almost impatience.  Anger. A low voice, deep, reverberant, spoke.

“So you’ve come at last.” The man’s face was half in shadow, but the visible half twisted into an expression of amusement.  Mickey didn’t like him. Maybe that was natural, but even at a glance there was something about him that you couldn’t trust.  If he’d passed them on the street, Mickey was convinced he would’ve felt just the same way. He felt Minnie’s hand squeeze his as the man - the king? - continued.  “ I’ve been waiting for you. I trust your journey wasn’t too difficult?”

“...No,” said Mickey at last, when it became apparent that nobody else was going to say anything first.  Anyway, he had sort of a feeling like the man was addressing him in particular anyway. “We got along just fine, thanks.”   Instinctively, he threw his shoulders back as he spoke, made himself as big as he could, which - well. He tried. The man in black was easily three times his size anyway.  Mickey could feel, rather than see, the smirk on the man’s face.

“I’m so pleased!  I was concerned about your welfare.”

There was a brief, almost unbearable silence, which was abruptly broken by Donald.  “Give it up, Ghoul King!” he snapped, leaping forward before Daisy could grab his arm to stop him.  The man blinked.

“Give it up?”

“Careful, Donald,” warned Goofy in a loud stage whisper.  “He’s liable to zap ya with his magic powers!”

“I’d just like ta see him try an’ zap  _ me _ ,” muttered Clarabelle in a huff.  Horace put a hand on her shoulder, maybe just to prevent her from doing anything rash.  Daisy did the same with Donald, although he wasn’t finished yet. He didn’t advance further, but he raised a fist.

“We know all about the curse and we’re here to stop you!”

“Stop me?” The man sat up straight, and leaned out more fully into the light at last.  He was tall, which had been apparent before, in fact almost too tall for the throne in which he sat, with an elegant bearing,  He wore a black robe with an ornate pattern stitched across the breast and sleeves, with a hood that rested over his head. Beneath it, Mickey could make out dark hair slicked back from his forehead.   He wore a neatly groomed mustache over a thin mouth, and had very dark eyes which narrowed now, ostensibly in amusement, but there was a chill in their depths. The smile never made it as far as his eyes.  Mickey could see him thinking, but he wasn’t sure what about. There was something in it that he didn’t like, though, something calculating. “Why, whatever do you mean? Stop me from ...what?”

Everybody looked at Mickey then, and he could feel it on his back even if he couldn’t see them all. He’d been nodding along to Donald’s angry words, but now he wasn’t sure what to say either.  He hoped his voice wouldn’t crack. “Ghoul King,” he warned, “W-we’ve traveled a long way to get here. I dunno why yer doin’ all this, an’ I guess there’s some things we haven’t figured out yet, but -  that doesn’t matter. We know we’re under some kind of a spell. We aim ta have it undone, or - or we’ll undo it ourselves. S-somehow.” 

“A sp - a spell!”  The king tried to give a little laugh, but almost choked trying to get it out.  “Wh...how extraordinary. And all of you - but this  _ is  _ remarkable. My friends!” He threw his hands out and Mickey took an instinctive step back. The man’s expression had shifted quickly- _ too _ quickly, he thought - into a broad grin. “Why, but what astounding bravery and fortitude - to find a path all the way back to my castle!”  He did laugh then, loudly, tossing his head back. There was a strange sound to that too, unpleasant, and Mickey sort of wanted to tell him to stop it.  Instead, he just had to wait, clenching his fists. Pluto was pacing at Mickey’s side, clearly agitated, and at the sound of that laugh he growled again, louder this time.  Minnie bent to touch his back, trying to calm him. 

“...What’re you talking about?”

The king recovered himself at last, brushing a finger across his streaming eyes.  “...Why, my dear young Mickey… have you really forgotten everything? You don’t remember who you really are?”

It shouldn’t have made him feel so uneasy that the king knew his name, but hearing it made Mickey wince.  He flushed, feeling a prick of shame he couldn’t explain. “...You know I don’t,” he said quietly. “You’re the one who did this.”

The king bent forward, and Mickey had the uncomfortable feeling like the room was shrinking, like the Ghoul King was closer to him than he really was.  He felt Minnie’s fingers on his sleeve and he lifted his chin again, almost defiantly. The king’s voice was soft, but perfectly clear. “Ah, Mickey. I had hoped you would learn … but perhaps that was unfair of me.  You must’ve endured much to get here. The least I can do is tell you what you must’ve been burning to know.”

“The  _ least _ you could do would be to end this curse ya put on us,” Goofy burst out, unable to bear it any longer.  But the Ghoul King shook his head.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Hmph!  And why not, I’d like to know?” Clarabelle pointed a finger at him.  “I thought you were supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer in the whole land, isn’t that right?”

A little smile tugged at the king’s mouth.  “Indeed.”

“Seems sorta funny one little curse would give ya so much trouble then, wouldn’t it?” said Horace, for once not seeming to mind if Clarabelle shot off her mouth. 

“Why, it’s nothing but - but fighting dirty!” Daisy cried, echoing Donald’s sentiment back in the catacombs, and surprising herself more than anyone.  Donald himself was quick to chime in, though.

“Yeah!  Even if Mickey was yer enemy, cursin’ everybody’s just what a lousy, rotten  _ chicken  _ would do!”

The Ghoul King’s eyes flashed, and for a moment he looked very angry.  He swept up to his feet, tall and terrible, and Donald flinched instinctively as he descended from the dias.  Pluto gave a snarl of warning, and Minnie took hold of his collar, alarmed, but by the time the Ghoul King stood before them, he was merely shaking his head sadly.  “Ah, my feathered friend, that’s the tragedy of it all! The utter tragedy! Your beloved Mickey is  _ not _ my enemy.”

That got everyone’s attention, and quick.  “...What?” Donald managed after a stunned pause.  The Ghoul King’s expression was all sorry mingled with pity as he studied Mickey’s face.

“...At one time, we called each other friends.”  He bent to one knee to meet Mickey’s eyes. Mickey met him steadily, but that dark black gaze made him feel a little sick.  His heart was hammering his ribs, making him feel almost dizzy as that deep voice spoke so ...gently. “You and your friends were my servants, Mickey.  That is the real truth. For many years, they -” he paused, highlighting the word. “- and  _ you _ \- served me faithfully.  I looked on you as - as a son.  You were so eager to learn, so promising.”  His eyes fell a moment, and when they lifted again, there was a darkness in them.  “...But it wasn’t enough for you. As time went on, you grew envious of my power. You became consumed with claiming it for yourself.  You convinced the others to join in your plans and machinations. And at last, when you were sure you were ready, that the time had come … you challenged me.”  He sighed, as if the memory caused him physical pain, raising a hand to his temple as he closed his eyes. “...If only you had understood the power you were so desperate to hold...you would’ve known that all your schemes were in vain.  That it was hopeless. It could only ever end one way.” He opened his eyes again, gaze snapping to Mickey’s. “...You failed. Disaster and calamity were sure to follow. Your attacks backfired completely, and instead of harming me, the only ones who suffered were you and your friends.  The curse resting on all of you now, the total loss of your memories, is nothing more than the consequence of your own insolence.”

Mickey had stood silent through all of this, his eyes wide.  It was hard to breathe; he felt chilly and sick. Could it possibly be true?  A battle … he opened and closed a fist at his side. He could feel something, a heart-racing need to fight, to prevail, to resist - was that a memory?  But … if it was all true, then… all of this, everything … had he really been so hungry for power?”

“...That ain’t true.”

It was Goofy who spoke, his usually bright voice low, troubled.  He was holding his hat in his hands, had been turning it round and round, but now it rested still at his waist.  He shook his head. “...That ain’t right. It can’t be right. Mickey wouldn’t do somethin’ like that. He just ain’t like that at all.”  A murmur of agreement ran through the little group, everybody almost relieved that Goofy had given voice to a universal thought. But the king just smiled that sad smile again.

“Ah, not so long ago, I would’ve agreed with you.  I never would’ve imagined it possible. But fate holds many surprises.  For example, I could never have predicted how your failed attempts to defeat me would affect you.  It seems that your memories were stolen away completely. This is most powerful magic indeed. It’s such a shame, a bitter shame, that such secrets are lost to you forever now.”  

It felt to Mickey like the king had been talking for an age.  His head hurt. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t be! He’d betrayed all of them, put them through hell.  Put Minnie through hell. What kind of a person was he, really?

Minnie was studying him with trouble brown eyes, which she lifted abruptly to the king.  “What about the full moon?” she asked him suddenly. The king’s brows shot up, although they quickly settled into place.

“...The full moon?” he repeated carefully.  Minnie’s fingers brushed against her necklace, before she dropped them to clutch at her skirts.  Her hands were trembling, but her voice was steady.

“Yes.  It’s important, isn’t it?  Someone told us it was.”

“Someone?”  The king looked at her closely.  “Someone you met in your travels?  Some ...adversary?”

“No, someone else.  It doesn’t matter who, does it?” she asked firmly.  “Why? What’s going to happen?”

The king rose to his feet again with that same unsettling swiftness, turning away from them, then turning back again.  He was drumming his long fingers, apparently in deep thought, until at last he gave a laugh, jarringly shrill, and clapped his hands together.  “Of course! The full moon! How clever of you, my dear! Perhaps all is not lost after all!”

Mickey’s mind was racing, but he managed to speak with a great effort.  “Whattaya mean?”

The king gave that sharp laugh again.  His voice was brighter now, almost cheerful.  “Well, it’s all in the past now, isn’t it? I’m not a vindictive man.  Better to let bygones be bygones, don’t you agree?” He walked around them a few steps, toward the doors where they’d entered, turning back and sweeping his robe aside with an almost jubilant flair.  “...I may not be able to break the curse that’s fallen upon you, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Your journey is nearly at its end already! How foolish I was not to realize sooner. All magic has rules, you see - even magic wielded by the  _ unworthy _ .”  He jabbed a finger upwards.  “When the full moon rises, the curse will be broken!”

“And we’ll get our memories back?” asked Horace suspiciously.  “Just like that?” The king’s smile broadened.

“Of course you will!  The curse will be ended completely, over without a trace.  You will all be exactly as you ought to be.”

Donald scowled.  “How can you be so sure?  You didn’t say anything about that a few minutes ago.”

“It simply hadn’t occurred to me, I was so overwrought.  But the full moon has a powerful effect on magic. Everyone knows that.”

“So what happens then?”  Mickey had lowered his eyes to the floor.  Now he looked at the Ghoul King, his brow furrowed.  “...When the full moon rises, we’ll get our memories back.  And then what? What’ll happen to us?”

The king templed his fingers.  “...I would imagine that will be up to you.  I am not a vindictive man. I have no desire to punish you unnecessarily.  Once this is all behind us, perhaps you will finally understand where you belong.”  Mickey didn’t reply, and at last the king laughed once more. “Ah, but you look so troubled!  There’s no need to be afraid. Soon this will all seem like nothing more than a bad dream.” He reached out, perhaps intending to rest his hand on Mickey’s head, but Pluto gave a sharp snarl, and he yanked his hand back.  “Ah! ...Protective as ever, I see. Hmm.” He clapped his hands together. “Well! You must all be tired. Where are my manners? What an ordeal you all have had! Wouldn’t you like to rest a while?”

Mickey shifted his weight uneasily.  “You mean...here in the castle?”

“Of course!  Why, you can return to your old rooms, if you wish!  I’ll have refreshments brought to you, anything you like.  You can stay all night! Then, in the morning when you wake up, your memories will be back and everything will be much clearer to you.

“Well...I-I dunno….”  Mickey rubbed the back of his neck.  He didn’t feel confident in making any decisions for the group, not anymore, and he looked back almost timidly to see what the others thought about it.  The king was speaking again before anybody could get a word in.

“My dear lad, you can’t possibly be thinking of asking your friends to spend another night out in the dark, with wild beasts and wandering spirits about.  Why, I couldn’t allow it. I insist you stay here, safe and sound.”

Mickey looked helplessly over at Minnie.  He wished he could talk to her alone, just for a minute, just to ask what she thought about it all,  just to know what she thought of him, just to tell her… to tell her how _ sorry  _ he was, that if it was all really true -

“Thanks, that’s real generous of ya,” Horace said, in his usual decisive way, which seemed to settle the matter.  “Guess it’s best to stick around for now.”

He didn’t take a poll of everyone else, but nobody felt like saying much anyway, at least not with the king standing there.  He didn’t seem to either notice or care, and he clapped his hands again. “Excellent! Now, why don’t you - oh! But of course.  How silly of me, you don’t remember the way. Allow me to show you to your rooms.” He swept past them, gesturing broadly for them to follow along.

All wrong, all wrong, all  _ wrong _ .  Mickey couldn’t seem to find his voice; his head was a tangled mess of confusion.  He could feel Donald look at him, Goofy too, knew they wanted him to look back, to show them some sign of what he was thinking, but he was too afraid, too ashamed.  As they turned to follow the king from the throne room, though, Minnie caught his arm with both of hers and hugged it.

“Mickey,” she said in his ear, before the king turned and looked back at them, and she didn’t dare say more.

“Follow me!” he beamed, and with little choice, helplessly - they did.


	9. Mickey and his Friends

The Ghoul King led Mickey and his friends through the castle halls.  Mickey could hardly concentrate on their surroundings, even after spending so long trying to reach this very place.  He kept thinking about everything the king had said, about how he was to blame for his friends’ - and his own - troubles.  At one moment, he would feel sure it wasn’t true, the next he felt half-sick with guilt at the thought that perhaps, even now, he was too much of a coward to face the truth squarely.  

“It’s strange how we’ve forgotten even the castle,” Daisy noted.  “It feels like it ought to be familiar, but everything’s rearranged.”

“Yes, it’s funny how the mind works, isn’t it?” the king mused vaguely.  

“Sure, real funny,” Donald muttered, before trailing off into something incomprehensible. They went up a staircase, but then down a longer staircase, and it was so dark, that in short order, Mickey was no longer sure exactly where they were.  It wasn’t a comfortable thought, and Pluto seemed to agree. He trotted along apace, but kept casting glances to the left and right, and making soft little concerned sounds, so that eventually, Mickey reached out to stroke his head.

“...S’okay, pal,” he murmured.  “We’ll be all right.” Pluto whimpered, but they kept on walking. 

After what felt like a very long time, they went down another little dip of just three or four steps and found themselves in a wide, carpeted hall, so long that the other end was totally obscured in shadows.  It was singularly unappealing to think of walking into that blackness, especially after they’d spent so long wandering through the catacombs, but to everyone’s relief, the king led them only a short distance down the hall before he stopped, gesturing to a finely-carved wooden door.

“Here we are.  These rooms will suit you perfectly well, I think.  Here, Mickey - why don’t you take this one?” He reached out to turn the handle and the door swung open a few inches.  Mickey hesitated.

“... What about Minnie?” He shot an uncertain glance her way. If the king thought he was gonna let Minnie go off alone somewhere, he could just think again, that was all. As it was, they looked at each other blankly for a moment.

“About..? What  _ about _ her?”

“They want to be together,” Daisy volunteered unblinkingly.

The king’s smile looked tight, but he gave another sharp laugh.  “Ah! Yes, of course, how stupid of me. You always were preoccupied with - but certainly, certainly.  In fact, why don’t I just give her the very next room, just here! She can settle in and get comfortable and then you can talk and laugh and be together as much as you want.”  He swept past them to indicate another door. And it was very odd, but Mickey was sure it hadn’t been there a moment ago - or at least, he hadn’t noticed it. But then, he’d been so distracted.  The king opened the door and bowed slightly. Suddenly suspicious, Mickey shoved past him a little rudely to look inside, but the king only chuckled. “You see? She’ll be perfectly safe.” 

The room Mickey surveyed now certainly looked normal enough.  A tall window, like the ones they’d seen from the outside, a bed, a table and chair.  Simple, but nice enough, even if it wasn’t what he would’ve expected. But then, what would you expect for a bunch of servants?  The king had continued to speak. “I do apologize I couldn’t have more appropriate accommodations prepared for you, as guests, but under the circumstances -”

“I’m sure we’ll be very comfortable,” Minnie interrupted. She stepped past the king as well to take a look around the room, before turning to Mickey.  “...It’ll be all right,” she murmured, offering him a faint little smile. He couldn’t quite make himself smile back. King or no king, if there was one thing that could shake him to his senses it was Minnie - it was always, Minnie.  He reached out to take her arm.

“Min, a-are ya sure?”  I don’t like this, he wanted to add, but he couldn’t.  Minnie seemed to understand anyway.

“If anything happens, I’ll be right next to you,” she said quietly.  Mickey’d never really felt that he was terribly good at reading between the lines, but he understood well enough that she didn’t just mean in the next room.  Anyway, if he’d had any doubts, she darted forward and kissed his cheek, right in front of everyone, and he closed his eyes against the ache that surged up in his chest.  He frowned, and without opening his eyes, he pressed his face against hers a moment.

“Pluto.” The pup’s ears picked up at the sound of his name, and Mickey pulled back to find him. “... Take Pluto with you. You’ll keep an eye on things - won’tcha, pal?” Pluto looked between the two of them, clearly conflicted, but he puffed himself up with a huff in the end, because he couldn’t refuse such a sacred duty, protecting what was more important to Mickey than anything.

“Oh, Mickey - what if -?” Minnie started to object, but he looked at her, blue eyes silently pleading, and she trailed off, finally nodding faintly. She reached out a hand and Pluto came to her side at once. Then she was stepping back into the room, allowing the others to withdraw.  “I’ll see you soon,” she murmured. The king set a hand around Mickey’s shoulders.

“Excellent.  Don’t worry, my dear, we won’t be far away, will we?  Here, I’ll show you - right next door, just as I promised.”  He steered Mickey away, even as he looked reluctantly back at Minnie, with Pluto wound around her legs, as the door swung shut.  She gave him a little wave and then was out of sight, and his heart sank. It was folly to leave her, to let her out of his sight for even an instant. Something bad was going to happen, but Mickey couldn’t guess what, couldn’t stop it. He felt paralyzed-  _ weak _ . Mickey didn’t resist as the king led him back to the door they’d passed and opened it up, indicating the room within.  At a glance, it looked identical to the one Minnie had taken. “Here you are, lad,” the king was saying. “Rest here and get your strength back.  This will all be over soon.”

“Yeah,” said Mickey unhappily.  “Thanks.” He stood in the doorway a moment, studying the room inside before walking in.

“And Mickey!”  The king waited until Mickey’d looked back again.  He drew closer, lowering his voice to private tones.  “I really do feel … pity for your plight. Truly. The power you sought was always beyond your comprehension.  Perhaps it’s scarcely your fault in the end. You were simply not strong enough to control it.” He looked sympathetic for a moment, then smiled broadly.  “Well! Try not to worry too much about the past. What matters now is the future.”

Too slick - too cryptic by half.  Mickey kicked a toe at the floorboards.  Maybe if he wasn’t such a sap, he could’ve put it into words, but he just couldn’t figure out the king’s game.  And all that stuff about … about being … _ weak _ .  He couldn’t know how weak Mickey was or wasn’t, could he?  What he was capable of? But then… how well did he even know himself, anymore?  Mickey swallowed hard, forcing himself to mumble something, anything. “...Yeah.  Sure it is.”

The king bowed his head, then withdrew.  Mickey watched the door drift slowly shut, turning away as it closed with a decisive thud.

“Excellent.  Excellent!” Out in the hall, the king clapped his hands together.  “Well! Now for the rest of you - eh?” He jerked his head to indicate they should follow again and set off briskly.

“Yer awful understandin’ for a man who’s shelterin’ his own enemies,” Clarabelle observed, taking long strides to keep up. She and Horace had been exchanging looks all the way down the hall, and she couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Well,” the king offered a chuckle, but Horace interrupted impatiently.

“Yeah, you’re ‘not a vindictive man’, right? Must be quite the forgivin’ type, is that it?”

The king looked sharply Horace’s way.  “Precisely. Besides, I’ve never believed in making anything harder than it has to be.  None of you pose a threat to me, so why should I wish to harm you?”

“Not sure I’d call that forgivin’, then, if it’s just what makes things easiest,” Clarabelle squinted.

“Call it whatever you wish.  It behooves us both to be at peace, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Maybe. We aren’t exactly in a position to judge, are we?” Daisy studied the king keenly. Donald had his arm around her protectively, feeling like Mickey had the right idea about keeping an eye on the girls while this guy was around. 

“Yeah! What if we were to decide diff’rent once we remember everything that’s happened?”

“Then you would fail. Again.”

“That sounds kinda like a threat,” said Goofy, standing up straight for once in his life.  It took a lot to rouse his temper, but he could feel it flaring now. The king shrugged.

“It’s a simple statement of fact.”

“Well, I’m getting tired of your facts.  I don’t think half of them make any sense.” Emboldened by the sense that everyone else smelled the same rat he was smelling, Goofy shook his head so emphatically his ears flapped. 

“Yeah!” Donald joined in. Instead of trying to hold him back, Daisy just gave an approving huff.  “Maybe we oughta just take a look around this place and see what else we can remember.“ 

“I have an even better idea.”  The king had stopped by another door and  now opened it, turning towards his remaining guests.  “Why don’t the rest of you go right in here and be quiet for a while?”

Before anybody had a chance to react, the king lifted his robe and swept it across the floor.  Instantly, a force like a strong wind pulled at each of them, almost lifting their feet off the ground.  Goofy lost his balance, and went tumbling head over heels, almost crashing into the two ducks in the process.  Donald snatched Daisy out of the way, but there was nowhere to go but through the doorway. Clarabelle and Horace were the last to be forced through, and Horace gave one grab for the doorframe, but he couldn’t hold on, and within seconds, all five of them were tangled in a heap on the floor.  Donald struggled free just in time to see the king grinning down at the lot of them. There was a strange look in his black eyes.

“That’s better!  I’m sure by morning you’ll see things more clearly.”  He laughed, and that hysterical note crept into it as he slammed the door shut.  Donald was on his feet in a moment, dashing back to stop him, but he was too late.  “HEY!” He hammered his fists on the wood even before he thought to try the handle. It wouldn’t budge, not even when he got ahold of it with both hands and braced his feet against the door.

“It’s no good,” said Daisy as Donald fell to the floor at last, unsuccessful.  “We’re stuck in here, I’m sure of it. That rotten liar! I knew he’d try to pull something like this, I knew we couldn’t trust him!”

Horace was getting to his feet as well, bending to give Clarabelle a hand. “I’m a damn fool!  I never shoulda let him lead us in here! He was up to no good from the start, an ‘ now we’ve let him split us up, too!”

“How come he’s locked us all in here together, though, if that’s what he wanted?”  Daisy helped a fuming Clarabelle straighten her dress.

“Because it don’t matter what happens to us.”

They all turned to look at Horace.  He was facing the door, arms crossed, in dark thought.  “...You folks musta felt it too,” he continued after a long moment.  “It ain’t  _ us _ he’s after.”

“Mickey,” said Goofy, and it felt so obvious, nobody bothered to disagree.

Clarabelle slapped her hands on her hips.  “I think he’s  _ scared _ of the little fella.”

“Yeah, but do you think  _ Mickey _ knows it?”  Donald was still sitting on the floor, and he shook his head.  “He’s been acting funny.”

“I’m sure Clarabelle’s right, though - that’s why he was in such a hurry to get him out of the way.”  Daisy wrung her hands, hesitating. “And … there’s something about Mickey, isn’t there?”

There was another silence, until Goofy broke it, speaking slowly.  “...I dunno about anybody else, but … I keep feelin’ like no matter what happens, we just gotta make sure we protect the lil’ guy.  Aw, I’d face up to any old king for any one of ya. But Mickey - if anything were ta happen to  _ him _ … feels like somethin’ terrible will happen.”

“The Ghoul King must know it too.  It’s just what he  _ wants _ , mark my words!” said Clarabelle.  Horace nodded.

“We’ve gotta get outta here somehow - and quick!”

 

~~~

 

The dark one stomed down the hallway in such a cloud of fury that he almost collided with Pete, leaning against the wall with a casual look about him that infuriated his master further still.

“So, ya caught the little creeps, huh?  I knew you were overreactin’.”

“Yes, they’re out of the way, no thanks to you - but they’re too damn nosy!”  He collected himself with a visible effort and pointed a finger at Pete. “You told them something about the full moon!  What did you say?”

“What? Me?” Pete clapped a hand to his chest as if scandalized.  “I didn’t tell ‘em nothin’. Maybe they remembered it. Mebbe that spell of yours ain’t as strong as you thought after all.”

“That’s impossible,” snapped the dark one, although for a moment, Pete thought that he didn’t look quite so certain.  “They remember nothing. But they knew about the moon, even if they didn’t grasp its importance. They were asking questions about it, questions,  _ questions! _ ”  He pressed his fingers against Pete’s shoulder in staccato with each rising repetition.  Pete smacked his hand away, fighting the urge to do worse than that. 

“I tell ya it wasn’t me!  Somebody else musta told ‘em.”  Pete’s eyes flashed wide. “Somebody’s been  _ helpin’ _ ‘em.  Didn’t I tell ya so before?”  The dark one gave a snarl and swept past the captain, down the hall, but Pete followed close behind, even trotting a step or two to catch up.  “It’s them creatures - tha spooks!  _ You _ told me you could control ‘em all, but they’re still helpin’ the mouse - ain’t they?!”

“Silence!”  The dark one stopped short and turned with such a murderous spark in his eyes that even Pete knew to clam up.  The dark one’s voice dropped to a threatening murmur.

“I want you to guard those cells.  If you see so much as a  _ whisker _ , I want you to put a stop to it.  The mouse must not be touched - he’s locked up alone - but as for the rest of them, I don’t care what you do.  Handle it your own way! The moon is almost full - nothing can be allowed to interfere now, nothing!” 

Pete nodded his head slowly, and the master stormed away.  He didn’t like how things were going, not one bit. The boss was getting more and more unwound, and Pete had just about had enough of being talked down to.  But maybe it was worth hanging on just a little bit longer. Handle things his own way - finally, the boss was speaking his language. He could do that. And if things started to go wrong, well … he’d have a plan for that, too.

 

~~~

 

Minnie waited a very long time before she peeked out into the hall.  She’d huddled there for what felt like an age, holding the door almost shut but not  _ quite _ .  She knew it was probably very silly, but she couldn’t shake the stubborn urge to see Mickey whenever she felt like, no matter what anybody else had to say about it, king or not.  And besides, she didn’t trust him, didn’t like the idea of being closed up in any room of his, guest or not. Letting him think she was cooperative seemed like a very good idea, however, and so she stood there, with the door just barely open until his voice and the voices of the others had died away, and then she waited even a little longer, before turning back to Pluto.

“Okay, Pluto - let’s go out.  But we have to be quiet!” Pluto, who had been standing beside her, straining his ears in an agony of uncertainty, was only too delighted to obey whatever commands she might give, so long as it meant going out and hopefully finding Mickey again.  Not that he resented being her guardian; he was proud of the responsibility. Even so, he closed his mouth and swallowed to show he understood, and then he was poking his nose out into the hallway to give it a good sniffing. Minnie crept out after him, pulling the door just shut again, and she looked both directions to make sure the king was really gone.  Then she hurried in the direction she thought Mickey’s room was.

It didn’t take long at all for Minnie to find that something was very seriously wrong, because although she looked one way and then the other, not only could she not see the door of Mickey’s room, she couldn’t see any other doors at all besides her own.

“Oh - oh no…”  Minnie turned around a couple times, but it was no use.  “It must be magic, Pluto.” Pluto gave a huff, but beyond sympathizing with her, there wasn’t anything he could do.  “That means Mickey could be anywhere in the castle! Oh, what’re we going to do?” There was a sound from somewhere down the hall, and Minnie jumped, darting back toward the room she’d come out of.  But she couldn’t go back in there, who knew where it would lead? So she pressed her back against the wall and slid slowly down to sit on the floor, feeling as though she’d like to cry. But crying wouldn’t help anything, so she just put her head in her hands a moment, until she felt Pluto’s nose poking at her with concern and she reached out to put her arms around his neck.

“...I never should’ve left Mickey.  What if something happens to him?” Pluto whimpered, perhaps feeling the same way, and licked her cheek sympathetically.  She sniffed. “...He needs me, I just know it. Whatever the Ghoul King says, I know Mickey would never do anything to hurt anybody.  He’s always protected us, ever since we met.” She thought of that, of his shocked face the first time she’d seen it. She’d known that very second he was wonderful, couldn’t explain how, but it didn’t matter.  And he needed her, she was just as sure of that too. 

That was right.  Mickey needed her now more than ever.  Minnie sniffed again, clutching absentmindedly at her necklace, before giving a little gasp.  Her necklace! She took the amulet in her hands, looking down at it.

“...I have magic too… right?” she murmured, more to encourage herself than anything else.  Pluto sat back, tilting his head. Minnie slowly got to her feet again. “It’s our turn to protect him for a change.”  She clutched the amulet tightly, staring at it, willing it to respond somehow. “Please - you helped us find the castle again, didn’t you?  Help me find Mickey. Show me where he is.” Nothing seemed to happen, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight. “Please... _ please _ ….”

Pluto pawed at her dress, whining.  Minnie’s eyes flew open as a little spike of warmth pulsed from the amulet.  It had begun to glow again. Minnie’s worried expression melted into a grin. “...Thank goodness!  Come on, Pluto!” She hurried down the hall, with the faithful hound close at her heels.

 

~~~

 

It was awfully quiet, alone in that room without Minnie or Pluto or any of his friends.  When the door closed, Mickey turned to the window with a twist in his gut. What was he doing?  He felt helpless, almost like in the graveyard. But back then, he really had felt safe. Now, it was like he was being pulled along just as easily even though every instinct he had was resisting.  His head was beginning to ache again too. He closed his eyes a moment, then turned to sit down on the bed. Maybe he really did need to rest, after all.

… A traitor.  A usurper. Some kid who was too big for his britches.  Was that really what he was? It shook him, thinking like that.  Somehow, with everything that had happened, he’d started to believe he had something important to protect.  Like all this must be happening for a reason.

He jumped to his feet.  It was no good; he was gonna go nuts sitting here alone.  He needed air. He needed to talk to Minnie. Everything would make more sense if she was around, wouldn’t it?  He turned to the door, determined to go over to her room this very minute, but hadn’t taken two steps before stopping short.

There was no handle on the door at all.

Mickey stood there stupidly for a second before lunging for the door, pushing on it, banging on it, trying to get his fingers around the frame, but the initial spike of horror he felt was entirely justified.  The door was sealed tight, and as far as Mickey could see, it was going to stay that way. He spun around to the window next, bashed a fist against the glass, but it barely even trembled. He went to the door again, kicked it, even dropped to see if he could pull at it from the bottom, but it was no good.  He was trapped.

“I knew it.  I KNEW it!” He was shouting out loud without realizing it.  “Why am I  _ stupid _ ?!  I let ‘em take Minnie away from me, I let him -!”

He slammed his fist against the door and it felt like the impact took the wind out of him.  He lowered his head, turning away. His head hurt again; he pressed a hand to his temple.

“...What’s the matter with me?!” he whispered to no one in particular.  Maybe it really was hopeless. Maybe the king was right. He was in way over his head, wasn’t he?  Blundering around like he knew what he was doing, when all the time, he’d been blind…? He crouched on the floor, curled almost into a ball, clutching his head, and for a little while, despair engulfed him so deeply that he couldn’t think about anything else except Minnie and his friends, circling around and around the agnonized idea that he’d failed them, failed them….

He wasn’t alone.  Mickey wasn’t sure how the idea first came to him, he just knew it all at once.  There was another presence in the room, then there were several. And yet he was sure the room was still empty.

Ghosts.  Several of them.  He knew it without lifting his head, could sense them drawing closer to him.  He wasn’t afraid, but he resented them. Nosy pests, that’s what they were. Couldn’t they leave him alone?

“Go away,” he mumbled into his hands.  The spirits were silent, but he could feel them  hovering around him, watching him. A little prick of anger managed to rouse him, and he lifted his head at last.

“I said go away!  Lemme alone, why can’tcha just lemme alone?!”

_                   …We’re worried about you. _

_       We want to help you. _

“Yeah, yeah - just like yer master wanted to help me too, right?  Issat it?” There was silence for a little while. Then,

_                                      ….That one is not our master. _

Mickey sat there.  It was dumb to trust a bunch of ghosts.  Anything they told him was bound to be a lie.  But he found himself whipping around to face them suddenly.  “Tell me who I really am!” he cried. Begged. “Please! Tell me!”

The ghosts, now very distinct as they surrounded him in a semicircle, dropped slowly down around him, as if sinking to their knees.  Their voices became so blended together that they were only one voice, very low and soft. Patient.

“ _...We cannot.  The curse which imprisons your mind binds us, too.” _

“The curse?  But how….” Mickey frowned, thinking back.  “...The Ghoul King said the curse was my fault.  Was that a lie?”

“ _ We cannot speak of things which came before the curse.  The truth is within your mind. But we want to help you.” _

“Then why haven’t ya?” Mickey demanded.  “Why didn’tja warn me before, why’dja let us get locked up in here first?!”

_ “Our sisters called to you in the Court of Souls, but you did not listen.” _

“Court of Souls? …The graveyard,” Mickey realized after a moment’s thought.  The ghosts nodded slowly.

“... _ We want to help you.” _

“That’s what they said too.” Mickey slumped down again. “Why? What do you want from me?”

The ghosts were quiet for a long moment again. Mickey thought that must mean they were refusing to answer him, but when they spoke again, it almost sounded like they were struggling to find the right words.

“ _ We want that which should be. We want not that which must not be. We want returned that which is stolen.” _

Mickey shook his head. It was incomprehensible, and probably just actual nonsense. It gave him a pain between the ears. “How can ghosts even want anything?” He said peevishly. “Yer not even alive.”

The ghosts were very still, but somehow, their silence made Mickey feel guilty, like he’d just hurt their feelings. Maybe he was finally losing his mind altogether.

“ _ We want to help you,” _ they said again at last.  “You are…a friend.”

A friend.  Help him. Just like those spirits in the graveyard - Court of Souls, whatever.  What sort of help had they intended? He thought back to how safe he’d felt, how … peaceful.  It was another trick, had to be. But looking at it altogether, what did he have to lose, now?  Mickey rose slowly to his feet.

“If ya wanna help me,” he said firmly, “Then help me find a way _ out  _ of here.  Help me find Minnie!”

The ghosts seemed to turn to one another, conferring a moment before speaking again.

“... _ We cannot free you.  But we can help you. If you trust us. _ ”

“W-what do you mean?”

The ghosts got closer.  They didn’t exactly move closer, they just were, and Mickey recoiled in spite of himself.  The voice was very gentle now.

“ _ Trust us.  Trust yourself.  ...We are friends. _ ”

Trust himself.  One of the ghosts reached out toward him.  He turned his chin away from those long, cold fingers, and the spirit stopped.  Trust. It was crazy. How could anybody trust a ghost? And yet … he thought about what Minnie had said.  The spirits had never really hurt them; even those terrifying bone creatures had helped them in the end. And back in the catacombs…

He felt that soothing warmth wash over him, but resisted it.  He’d lost so much of himself already, what if he lost more by giving in?

Trust himself?

The ghost was reaching for him again, and this time, Mickey held still, sucked in a breath as fingers brushed across his face.  The touch was gentle like the voice, almost loving. He swallowed hard, feeling his heart start to beat fast. The ghosts were circled close around him now.  He could feel the cold emanating from them, but he still felt warm.  _ Safe _ .

“ _ Close your eyes, _ ” they murmured.  Mickey did. Hands brushed across his face and ears, tingling.  “... _ Let go of your fear.  See what is true. _ ”

Mickey’s eyes moved behind his closed lids, traveling across the room as he listened to the spirits’ voices.  Fear? He wasn’t afraid, was he? Not of them. Was he afraid of the Ghoul King? No, that wasn’t the word for it.  But he must’ve been afraid of something. Afraid of failing. Losing Minnie. Losing himself. Of not having the strength to stop -  _ him _ .

He sucked in a breath, but felt hands take his face, holding him firmly.  He felt dizzy, but this time, the ache in his head made his mind clearer, not foggier.  He wasn’t sure if he was still standing or if the spirits were holding him upright, couldn’t feel his body at all.

“ _ You want to fight? _ ” the spirits whispered.  Mickey shook his head.

“No.  Yes.” Which was it?  He wrestled his thoughts for a moment.  “I don’t want to fight, but I have to. I have to protect everyone.”

“... _ To protect them from who _ ?”

“Protect them from - from -” he stopped again.  Why was he suddenly tongue-tied. His ears were starting to ring, a tingling hum that got louder and louder, so loud he could hardly think.

“ _ From who? _ ”

“From...the king,” Mickey managed, but he could hardly get the words out.  “From  _ him! _ ”

His name.  You know his name.  I know his name. “...I know his name.  His name!” Mickey’s eyes flew open. “... _ The Phantom Blot! _ ”

Pain struck him like a blow and his knees buckled, but the spirits were there.  Cold hands caught his shoulders and chest, and eased him down to his knees. He braced his hands against the floor, panting.  The Phantom Blot! The Phantom Blot! That was his name, his real name! It was nearly as familiar to Mickey as his own. He couldn’t remember anything more, but somehow, each time he repeated that name to himself, he felt a rush of returning strength.

“ _ Well done, dear one! _ ”  Mickey lifted his head to find the ghosts crouched around him, their hooded forms shimmering, like light reflecting off a pond.  They looked almost beautiful, their voice rich with warmth. “ _ Well done.  Now you are not afraid!  See what is true. _ ”

Mickey got to his feet, almost trembling with the rush of  whatever was happening to him. Maybe he really was under some sort of spell, but he didn’t care anymore.  He wasn’t afraid. The spirits rose alongside him, pointed to the door. He went to it, and without needing to be told, he rested his palm flat against the wood and closed his eyes a moment.  See what’s true. He felt cool fingers resting atop his own, and he was glad. He wasn’t weak at all, not when he could trust his friends.

“Show me the truth,” he said aloud.  He couldn’t have explained what he felt then; he just knew, right down to his bones, that he could do it, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the entire room shudder, as if it were painted on a curtain.  The shudder grew stronger, rippled around the room, and when the waves had circled behind him and returned to the door where his hand rested, the scene before him melted away. The door, the bed, the window - all of it shifted.  The wooden door was heavy, half-rotten, banded with thick metal. The window was narrow, covered in metal bars. The bed was no bed at all but a splintering bench. It was a prison cell, and although the light shifted, Mickey didn’t need to check the window to guess that they had somehow descended floors rather than ascending as he’d believed.  The whole castle must’ve been disguised; that was why everything had felt so strange and out of place. But why would the king - no, the Phantom Blot - need to go to that much trouble?

Mickey realized belatedly that the spirits were still there, and he spun around excitedly, only to find that they were already starting to fade away.  He reached out to them.

“Wait!  Don’t go yet.  I-I… I haven’t even thanked ya for - well, for whatever it is ya did, an’... I don’t know what to do next!”

“... _ We have given you all the strength we have to give, _ ” said the voice, regretfully.  “ _ It’s up to you now. _ ”

“But -!”  Mickey reached out, but they were too misty to touch now.  

“ _ Farewell, dear one. _ ”  The voice faded away, and Mickey was alone again.  He lowered his hand with a heavy feeling of sadness.  But he couldn’t let them down, not the ghosts and not is friends - the  _ rest _ of his friends, he decided firmly.  They were  _ all  _ counting on him, somehow.  Mickey faced the door again, and at his sides, his hands opened and shut absentmindedly.  He felt...stronger. Much stronger.

 

~~~

 

Minnie and Pluto crept through the halls, stopping to stand as still as two statues or, sometimes, scramble into the nearest, darkest shadows and huddle there trembling every time there was a noise.  Minnie had to hide her amulet in her hands to smother its glow, but she had to take the risk. Its glow would shine brighter when they were headed in the right direction, dimming if they made a mistake and went the wrong way.  But the castle was dark and labyrinthine. One hallway would branch into others, and sometimes it felt like they were retracing their steps, necklace or no necklace. It was clear to Minnie now that the Ghoul King had been hiding a lot from them when they’d arrived, or else why would he have shut them up so quickly?  

“The king wants us out of the way, Pluto,” she whispered to him.  “He’s trying to get rid of us! It must have to do with the full moon! Something’s going to happen, and he knows we’re part of it!”  Pluto couldn’t answer her, but he gave a little huff and scowled, and seemed to agree completely, and knowing they were in such accord made Minnie feel better about things.  “...Mickey will know what to do. He  _ must _ be close by.  Once we find him, then we can look for Daisy and everyone, and we’ll get to the bottom of -”

There was a creak somewhere, and Pluto froze with two feet in the air, looking up at Minnie for guidance.  She had stopped too, but when the noise seemed to get closer, she grabbed Pluto’s collar and they fled together, darting into a shadowy alcove.  Minnie backed up slowly, holding a finger to her lips, and they waited. The sound faded again, but just when Minnie was about to step forward, she heard something again, and went back another step.  Dimly, she felt as though they should’ve backed up against the wall by now, but it wasn’t there.

The thought was still being formed in her mind, that the wall should’ve been there, when Minnie took one more step back - and there was no floor at all.  Nothing. She gasped, letting go of Pluto’s collar only to flail helplessly to grab onto him again, grab onto anything - and then she was falling backwards.  She felt Pluto yelp, felt his paws against her legs and his teeth snapping at her dress, but he couldn’t catch her in time, and so he leaped after her instead.  They fell together, rolling at first, then sliding, bump, bump, bump, into pitch black darkness. And after trying so hard to be quiet, Minnie lost herself to sheer instinct for a moment, and as the dark swallowed them up, she gave a frightened scream.  Falling, falling, falling….


	10. The Full Moon

Mickey scratched his head, thinking.  The spirits had helped him, there was no doubt about that, and he felt much better; but he still didn’t know what to do, or how to get out of the cell he was in, since that’s what the room appeared to be.  Why even bother hiding it? If the king - the Phantom Blot - was so powerful, couldn’t he just have locked them up in the first place? Why the charade? Well, it was all pretty puzzling, but Mickey squinted at the door, trying to force himself to focus.  This dungeon or whatever it was looked to be in pretty profound disrepair, as if it hadn’t been in use for a long time. If the door really was as old as it looked, maybe he could force it open after all, somehow. Prepared to try anything, Mickey cracked his knuckles, then bent and pressed his shoulder against the door.  He counted to three, then heaved as hard as he could. Nothing budged, but he was undeterred - and maybe a little irrational. He just knew that if he kept at it, somehow or other, it would have to give. He sucked in a breath for a second push and rammed into the door again. A little too hard, as it turned out; the impact was painful and his shoulder stung, but he gave it his best effort, feet scuffling against the floor, until he had to pause and catch his breath again, head pressed against the rough wood.  He wasn’t discouraged, not yet. He had a feeling, that was all, and if he kept trying -

His sensitive ears twitched and he lost his train of thought, listening.  What was that? A little chill ran through him. Somewhere out there, he could sense…

Minnie!  It was Minnie.  She was out there somewhere, and he suddenly knew she was in trouble.  He couldn’t hear her, not exactly, but he  _ felt  _ her scream.  She was afraid.  She needed him!

Mickey took a step back from the door, looking it over with wild eyes.  Think, Mickey, think! Minnie was in trouble and he was stuck in here. He had to get out, what was he standing around for?  He had to get  _ out! _

Maybe thinking was the problem in the first place.  He’d spent so long thinking about all of it; wasn’t it time he just acted?  So Mickey stopped thinking. The flat of his hand smashed against the wood and he wanted it  _ gone _ .  

**_OPEN!_ **

He felt an impact, that rubbery feeling of recoil like when they’d encountered Pete in the woods, when he and Minnie had almost been crushed.  The next thing he knew, the door was splintering, bursting outwards off its hinges like he’d struck it with a battering ram, and momentum he didn’t know he’d had carried him out into the hall, skidding to a stop as broken bits of wood rained down around him.  The whole castle felt like it was tilting on its axis, and Mickey almost lost his balance, wobbling on one foot before a deep shudder ran through him and the floor settled down firmly again. It was dark, and he was so disoriented at first that it took a moment even to notice that this wasn’t the same hallway he’d walked into with the king - the Blot  - so where was it? But more importantly, where was  _ Minnie _ ?  He whirled one way and then the other, before setting off at a run.  Forget about being cautious, he was done with that. He wanted to find Minnie.  He’d scour the whole castle for her if he had to, knock down every door in the place.  He didn’t care. He was gonna protect her for real this time, he was going to find her, just like - just like he’d  _ promised _ .

 

~~~

 

“C’mon, Horace, give it another try!”  Horace looked back over his shoulder, which he was rubbing dourly, at Clarabelle.  

“I been tryin’ it, woman!  Can’tcha see I been tryin’?  It ain’t budgin’!” He tapped Goofy as well.  “Give it up a minute, Goof, we gotta think this thing over from the start again.”

Goofy looked up from where he’d been squinting intently at the lock.  Donald had already tried picking it with a pin from Daisy’s dress - or hat, or something, nobody had bothered to pay much mind - but had no success at all, and when he got too frustrated to continue, Daisy had tried too, but no luck.  Now they were both sitting together in a dejected heap, as Goofy moved to slump down beside them, shaking his head.

“Garwsh - I just can’t stand it.  All of us locked up in here when Mickey needs us most.”

“Yeah, an’ th’ Ghoul King laughin’ himself sick over whatta bunch of suckers we all are.”  Donald’s scowl was so deep it looked liable to crack his beak. Daisy rubbed his back comfortingly, even though she looked just about as angry.

“He won’t be laughing long.  He was lying to us, you said so yourself.”

“So what?”

“Think about it!”  Daisy conked him gently on the head with her fist.  “Why would somebody lie when they’ve got the upper hand?  He’s got us right where he wants us, right? So if he’s so powerful, why wouldn’t he just tell us the truth, when there’s nothing we can do about it?”

“‘Cause there IS somethin’ we’re gonna do about it.”  Clarabelle rolled up her sleeves. Horace arched a questioning brow, but she marched past him.  “Stand aside, Horace. Let  _ me  _ have a crack at that door.”

“Whaaat?” Horace sputtered, but Clarabelle was already winding up and letting go, barrelling towards the door with her head lowered.

_ OPEN! _

There was a distant rumble which seemed to shake the ground, and much nearer, a sound like metal scraping against metal, or a lock being turned.  Clarabelle crashed into the door shoulder-first, and a moment later was tumbling into a heap outside in the hallway. Horace gave an alarmed yelp.

“Clarabelle!”

He ran out through a cloud of dust that had gotten kicked up by the sudden departure, bending to scoop the fallen Clarabelle up into his arms.  She was coughing and rubbing her head, blinking owlishly for a moment or two before letting out a bellow of glee.

“Ah HA!  How do ya like THAT?!  Ha ha! I’ve a thing or two to teach you YET, Horace!”

“Wha - that - I -” Horace tried, unable to get out more than a syllable before finding himself speechless altogether.  Goofy and the ducks, leaping to their feet at the sight of all this, now clustered around them in the hall.

“We did it!  Well, Clarabelle did.”

“How in tha world - ?!”

“Clarabelle!  I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“Neither did I!”  Clarabelle brushed herself off proudly as Horace lowered her to the floor.  “But it just goes to show a body never knows what they can do until they try!”

“What’s the matter, Goofy?” asked Daisy, noticing her companion peering down the hall with a puzzled expression.  He scratched his head.

“It’s th’ dardnest thing, but just for a minute there, I thought I heard Mickey’s voice.”

Donald shot a look up at him.  “Yeah, so did I! I thought I was imagining things.”

“Maybe we were both imaginin’ things.  Ain’t nobody there. Although… there’s somethin’ different about this place.”

“I’ll say there is.  This ain’t the same hall we walked into before.  It’s someplace else.” Horace looked around.

“What?  But … there was only one door we coulda come through.”

“I know it.  Don’t make no nevermind.  Somethin’s gotten turned all around.”

“More magic,” Donald assessed.  “He’s tryin’ to pull another one over on us.”

“Well, let ‘im try.  We’ve gotta get back to that throne room, or wherever he’s hiding.”

“Shouldn’t we try to find Minnie and Mickey?” asked Daisy, trotting along as the taller folks started to move.

“I reckon we’ll be able to find them too, if we find the Ghoul King.”

“Mebbe we should try an’ keep it quiet,” Goofy suggested, but Donald waved this aside.

“Aww, let him try and stop us.  If he wants to pick another fight, we might as well get it over with.  C’mon!” He stalked forward.

“Gosh, how’d you know which way to go?” asked Goofy, hurrying to follow along.  Donald shrugged.

“I don’t, but I’m not standing around  _ here _ .”

It wasn’t the best argument, but since nobody had a better one, they all followed, leaving their temporary prison behind.  The hall opened quickly into a wide foyer, similar to the one they’d encountered when they’d entered the castle, but not the same one.  They moved deeper inside. Every so often, there was another faint rumble, like the castle wasn’t through rearranging itself. They would pause until it passed again, just in case something were to shift under their feet, although it never did.  Daisy for one was starting to wonder if it wouldn’t be better to stop and try to get their bearings, until they rounded a corner and found themselves staring down a hallway that was obviously far more open to the outside than the corridor they’d left.  She gasped in spite of herself. Multicolored light was streaming into the hall through huge stained glass windows that lined the entire length of the hall, which was considerable. It was beautiful; more than that, it was familiar. Nobody said as much, but they could all feel it as they inched forward in silence.  There were images carved into the glass, each piece carefully fitted together to create shapes and figures. There was writing up and down the sides of each window as well, etched into the stone. There were images of monsters and creatures like the ones they’d encountered, but other figures too, much more humanlike ones.

“What is this place?” Donald breathed.  Daisy turned around in a full circle, still walking.

“...It must be some kind of history.  It’s talking about the Ghoul King.” She walked on a little further before realizing she was alone, and he turned back to find the others staring at her.  “...What’s the matter?”

“Daisy...you can read that writing?”

“Well, sure!  ...Can’t you read it too?”

She watched four heads shake themselves ‘no’, right down the line, and blinked, staring back up at the windows for a moment.  How very odd! Goofy scratched his head. “...Heck! I never considered myself the extra-literate type, but I’m pretty sure that ain’t normal writing anyhow.  I wonder why….”

“Never mind that now! What does it say, Daisy?”  Clarabelle leaned forward eagerly.

“Oh!  W-well….”  Daisy turned to study it again, flustered by the sudden and unexpected sense of responsibility.  “...It’s talking about the Ghoul King and all the things that happened to him. Like … like a shrine, or something like that.”  She looked around a moment before pointing at a window toward the end of the hall. It depicted a cloaked man surrounded by figures of beasts and ghouls.  ““See there? It says the King was a mortal mage who made an accord with th’ ghosts and monsters a thousand years ago. That’s how he got so strong.”

“A thousand years?!” Donald demanded. “Well, how old  _ is  _ this codger, anyway?”

“I don’t know - but I’m not sure it’s the same guy.”  She pointed to another panel, this one depicting a cloaked figure standing on a golden dias.  There were monsters surrounding the throne, and another human figure kneeling at his feet. A pale yellow moon was cut into the glass above them, and a beam of moonlight was falling down, apparently bathing them in its light.  “This part here’s talking about how the Ghoul King went into the Beyond and the next king took his place. I guess whatever powers he had, he was still mortal. At least partly.”

“So this guy who cursed us, he’s the Ghoul King’s son? Or his descendant or something?” Horace scratched his head.

“Maybe,” Donald squinted thoughtfully. “But maybe not.  Lookit this! What’s this one say, Daisy?” He took her hand and they drifted down the hall, looking at the other windows.  Each of them depicted a figure surrounded by monsters, but the creatures and, indeed, the figure itself looked different in each one.  Daisy looked from one to the next, brow furrowed hard. “Hmm...It’s sort of hard to make out. And it doesn’t make as much sense. It looks mostly like a lot of names.”

“Names?  Whose names?”  Clarabelle stood on tiptoes to try and see clearer.

“Well, all sorts of kinds, you know - “the one who speaks at midnight”, “the holder of the dark flower of the sacred garden”, things like that.”

“Heh!” Goofy chuckled.  “Sounds sorta fancy!”

“Bro-o-o-ther,” said Donald. Daisy pinched him.

“If you want to know what _ I _ think,” she said, “I don’t think these are all the same person, either. I think there’s been different Ghoul Kings since the first one.  Maybe a lot of them! And these must be their names.”

“This is gettin’ complicated,” mumbled Horace, removing his hat to rub his forehead. “What if there’s a whole bunch of ‘em?”

“There ain’t. Only one at a time,” Clarabelle noted.  “I bet they each put themselves up in the window when they ascended to the throne.  That’s what I’D do.” Horace rolled his eyes, but Clarabelle either didn’t see or pretended not to.  Daisy was moving along once more.

“I think you must be right.  It says something about that, about new dawning and twilights of the kings of the past.  Hmm. I guess they really must’ve handed the throne down to their descendents or something.  It sounds pretty peaceful.” She rubbed the back of her neck, which was getting stiff from craning to read the writing. “It looks like that’s the end of the history, though.  Clarabelle?”

Clarabelle had paused and was looking up at the last pane of glass  It showed a tower bathed in moonlight, similar to the other windows, but the golden dias was empty.  She looked back at the window before that. “...I thought mebbe I could recognize him. The Ghoul King, you know.  But that doesn’t look anything like him, does it?”

“Maybe his window hasn’t been carved yet?” suggested Goofy.

“Maybe….”

They all looked up at the last panel with a figure in it.  The figure was shrouded in a robe, so that much was the same, but even in the vague features carved in the glass, it certainly seemed that the king had a long golden beard.  Clarabelle looked at that a long time before shrugging and moving on to join the others, who had already drifted away.

They’d reached the end of the hall now, and stood facing a tall black door.  There was writing carved into the door as well, and the group huddled around it, looking expectantly up at Daisy, who puffed up her cheeks a moment before letting it out.  “This part is some sort of poem. It doesn’t make a lot of sense. Here, I’ll read it all. It says, ‘ _ The night shall guard the Ghoul King during the new season. The spirits shall thwart his enemies and the creatures of midnight will encircle his friends.  Strength shall not claim strength. From one unto another, in peace, shall strength be claimed. In the hour of the full moon shall the worthy ascend and his power be complete _ .’”  She waited a moment before shrugging her shoulders.  “W-well...that’s all.”

“Er..what do you suppose it all means?” Clarabelle asked at last, glancing from one face to another.

“I’ll tell you what it means.” Donald clapped a hand on Daisy’s shoulder, giving her a wink.  “It means that, thanks to us, we’ve got this Ghoul King as good as licked!”

This hardly made any sense, but Daisy flushed warm with pleasure anyway.  Goofy chewed on the inside of his cheek for a minute, thinking. “So when the moon is full… the Ghoul King’s power will be complete?  And then what happens?”

“I dunno exactly.  But I’d bet my life that if we’ve got any chance of stoppin’ him, we’ve got until the moon rises,” Horace predicted grimly. “Remember what those spooks said? If anybody’s gonna challenge the King, he’s gotta do it before then.”

“But the moon was nearly full when we  _ got _ here!”  Clarabelle looked horrified.  “That means we’re almost out of time!”

“We might be too late already.”  Daisy cast a desperate look at the windows, even though it was impossible to see the moon through them clearly.

“C’mon.  I ain’t quittin’ now.  We GOTTA find Mickey, and quick!”  Horace seized the handle of the black door, clearly prepare to find it locked; but it opened easily, if loudly, and they hurried through to the passage beyond.

 

~~~

 

The Phantom sat in the throne room, his body motionless but his eyes darting from the door to the window and back again.  Soon. The moon would be full soon, and it would all be over. The danger was nearly past. He’d been so careful, so thorough, had arranged things so perfectly.

And yet it wasn’t perfect, was it? Even now, he could feel it.  The castle itself was rebelling, creaking and groaning as things rearranged themselves.  Was it  _ his _ doing?  Or was the spell itself unraveling, the threads fraying more and more with each passing moment?

He jumped to his feet, suddenly unable to sit still any longer, and stalked to the window, leaning on the sill to look out at the dark clouds rolling across the sky.  He could make out flashes of starlight between them as they passed. So soon, so soon! He’d come too far to let anything stop him now. Especially not something named  _ Mickey  _ who had somehow managed to find his way back here and even now, he could be - 

No.  The mouse was getting in his head again.  He was locked safely away, had to be. A shudder seemed to run the sky was still too obscured by clouds to see anything clearly, but it was almost time.

The castle shuddered again, more intensely this time, so hard that his eyes darted anxiously over the stained glass panes in front of him, as though they might crack, and the Phantom felt a slight chill.  It  _ couldn’t _ be.  He lifted a hand, flexed it. For just a moment, he almost felt … weak.

Enough.  It was almost time.  He turned away from the window, stalked across the room and out the door, lifting his hand to summon a glowing orb.

“Captain Pete.”

“ _ Blot!   _ What’s goin’ on around here?!  The castle’s goin’ nuts or somethin’!  Doors an windows are slidin’ around, it’s like somebody’s playin’ a puzzle with the whole place!”  The Phantom winced. He hated it when Pete referred to him so casually, had told him again and again that he was only to be addressed as The Master, Your Majesty, or King, but there wasn’t time to worry about that now.

“Merely an indication that the crucial hour is approaching,” he lied.  “How are our guests?” There was a long pause, and the Phantom stopped walking to focus completely on the hazy image of Pete within the orb.  “ _ Captain? _ ”

“...Th’ mouse is loose again.”

“ _ WHAT?! _ ”

“Don’t get all excited.  I know just where he’s at - he’s stompin’ around the place like a durned gorilla or somethin’.  Little creep.”

“I told you to keep him under control!” the Phantom roared.  Pete’s face scrunched up closely into the orb, which was remarkably unbecoming.

“Oh yeah?!  How’s come it’s always MY fault when YOUR castle starts flyin’ into pieces huh?!  Take a look at THAT!”

The orb’s line of view swung around as Pete pointed it over a mess of rubble that the Phantom couldn’t identify clearly at first.  It was only after a long moment that he realized it was what remained of the door to the room where Mickey’d been held. His long face was hard and grim when Pete turned to look into the orb again.

“...So don’t come cryin’ to me when tha door blows off th’room!  Ya shoulda locked him up in chains right from the start. An’ when I get ahold of him -”  Pete rustled around for a moment and then produced a length of chain when he rattled into the Phantom’s line of vision.  “That’s just what I AM gonna do!”

“Fine.  Excellent.  Just as you wish,” The Phantom snapped.  “It doesn’t matter now. Just  _ find  _ him and bring him to the tower.  NOW.” He snapped his hand shut, dissolving the orb, and swept up a narrow staircase that spiraled up, higher and higher, disappearing into the darkness.

 

~~~

 

Minnie lifted her head, dazed, and found that she’d landed on top of Pluto - or else he’d contrived to get himself underneath her.  She groped to find his head and stroked it, feeling his familiar open-mouthed pant in response, and she hugged him gratefully. They’d fallen, she knew that, and as she blinked in the dark, her eyes slowly adjusted so that she could see they were crumpled at the bottom of a steep, winding staircase.  That’s what must’ve happened; in the dark, she had backed up against the stairs instead of the wall. “...You’re not hurt, are you, Pluto?” she asked, concerned, and laughed in spite of herself when he licked her cheek. So he had no hard feelings, either. She was glad for that. “...I guess I’ve gotten us into a mess, haven’t I?  I don’t know where we are now.” She felt Pluto nudge her gently, and got slowly to her feet, moving carefully. Her elbow and knee were sore, but nothing seemed to be broken. It was a little easier now to see, but the corridor they were in was still awfully dark. There was a chilly, musty smell in the air too, not unlike back in the catacombs; a scent of disuse and decay.  “What is this place?” Minnie murmured, taking a few cautious steps forward. Some sort of basement or cellar. Or … or a dungeon, she realized with a little shiver. The hallway continued into the dark, and they crept forward together. Minnie noted with some unease that there were heavy doors along the corridor, very different from the ones on the upper floors. These had slats for heavy bars to be laid across them, although at the moment, the slats all seemed to be empty.  It wasn’t very inviting, just the same.

“I wonder if the king keeps prisoners down here,” she suggested to Pluto, although the idea served little benefit other than making her feel even more afraid.  “...Or monsters,” she almost whispered. Pluto whimpered, not at all keen on the idea. Minnie swallowed. “I-I’m sure that’s silly, though. It doesn’t look like anybody’s been down here in -”

_ CRASH! _

The impact was so abrupt that Minnie screamed again in spite of herself and froze where she stood, heart pounding, smacking a hand over her mouth to prevent any further outbursts.  It was impossible to tell exactly where the sound had come from, but it seemed to be terrifyingly close by. It wasn’t just that; a tremor seemed to run through the entire castle, beneath her feet, almost sending her to her knees.  She didn’t know whether to run or to try and hold still and hope she would pass unnoticed; beside her, Pluto’s ears were standing up on his head and his eyes were almost as big as hers, but his shock only lasted a moment, because his keen eyes and nose told him the truth before anybody else had realized it, and as soon as Pluto understood, he gave a sharp bark, wriggling out of Minnie’s hands to go leaping forward.  She gave an alarmed cry, scrambling after him.

“Pluto!  Where are you going?  Don’t leave me - wait!”

Pluto, not heeding her, had reached the end of the room and was scratching at the door, whining.  Minnie had almost reached him when he leaped back, just in time to avoid being struck by the door as it was bashed open, as if someone had kicked it from the other side.

“ _ MINNIE _ !”  Mickey leaped forward, fists raised, ready to take on anyone or anything and do it barehanded besides, because Minnie had screamed and must be in trouble.  In the next instant, every thought of blood and murder had transformed entirely into delight, because as his eyes searched wildly for something to fight, he found himself looking instead straight into the startled eyes of Minnie herself.  Mickey gaped at her for a second and then, realization brightening his face, he scrambled toward her, closing the rest of the distance with an excited shout.

“Minnie!”  He reached her in a second and swept her up into his arms, laughing.  She was safe! She was right  _ here! _  Maybe she was still shocked, but it must’ve worn off quickly enough, because her arms went around him too and then he could feel her laughing along with him, limp with sheer relief even as her arms squeezed him tight.

“Mickey!  Mickey, Mickey, oh Mickey!” she was saying by the time he’d spun in a full circle and was dizzily lowering her feet to the ground again.  She didn’t let go, or even loosen her hold on him when he did. “I can’t believe - I was so worried about you! But - where on earth did you come from?”  Pluto leaped around their feet, knocking heavily into them, tail wagging furiously as he hopped up to wash their faces with his tongue. He’d sniffed Mickey out already, of course, and his delight could’ve only been matched by Minnie’s in being reunited with him.  Mickey freed one hand long enough to knuckle his head, laughing as he tried to dodge those wet kisses. Minnie was kissing him too, when she could safely maneuver close enough without Pluto getting in between, and as much as he loved his dog, Mickey liked this sort even better.

“Aw, Pluto - g-geez, ya mutt - I missed you, too!  Minnie, I’m sorry, I’ve gotcha, I won’t letcha outta my sight again, not ever!”  He pulled away at last, shooting a look around. “Where’s Goofy an’ the others?”

Minnie’s face fell a little.  “I don’t know. Everything seems turned around.  They can’t have gone far, but the whole castle seems to change every time I turn my back.”

“So  _ that’s _ it.  Must be some sorta magic spell,” Mickey murmured.

“I think so too - to confuse us.  None of the other doors were where they ought to be, so we started looking for you.  My necklace -” She glanced down at it, and indeed, it was shining more brightly than ever.  It almost looked proud of itself, in a way. “...It helped lead us to you! Only I wish it hadn’t let us quite so … abruptly.”  She cast a little baleful glance back toward the staircase. Mickey remembered, then, what had alerted him to her presence in the first place and cast a worried look over her in entirety.  

“Hey, that’s right - I heard ya screamin’ before.  Are you okay?”

“I am now.”  She beamed, even as he didn’t look entirely convinced.  “Really, I am. I was just startled a little, that’s all.  We took a little bit of a tumble before - ” she exchanged a glance with Pluto. “- But nothing to worry about.  Anyway, that doesn’t matter now. Let’s hurry and find everyone. I have a feeling we don’t have much time.”

“Yeah.  C’mon.” Mickey took her hand.  The rest of their friends must still be trapped in the castle somewhere.  It seemed at least like the illusions the king - the Phantom - had thrown over the place were gone now, but Mickey still had no idea where to start looking for them.  Where, for that matter, were they now? Parts of the castle had looked familiar before, but this basement was strangely foreign.

“I was so scared when I came out into the hall and couldn’t find your room,” Minnie was saying.  Mickey stopped again, looking at her in dismay. It must’ve been awful for her, left alone, watching him walk away.  He must’ve been outta his mind. He began trying to explain, but it was hard knowing where to start. 

“Th’ king had me locked up! It was all a trick, see - but the ghosts came back to help me an’ - an’ gosh, was I ever worried about  _ you! _  I knew we couldn’t trust that ol’ louse, an’ - hey!”  He was holding her around the waist still, stepping back just enough to study her with wide eyes, even as Pluto sat down on his feet, apparently not satisfied unless he could be just that close.  “How  _ did _ you escape, anyway?”

“Escape?”  She and Pluto exchanged a glance, overwhelmed.  “What do you mean? I just waited by the door for a little while until the king went away, and then we snuck out.”

“Really?”  Mickey thought about that, reaching down with one hand to stroke Pluto’s head again.  “...That musta been my mistake - letting him shut me in. I had to break my way out. The ghosts helped me!”  

“That’s what you said before,” Minnie reminded him. “But how?”

“Well - I don’t really know,” Mickey realized after a moment’s thought. How could he put into words the way he’d felt, the sense of belonging he’d been lacking? Even if he could describe it, he wasn’t sure she would understand, not when he didn’t really understand it himself. He blinked. “Oh! But they told me something else, too. No, that’s not right. I  _ remembered  _ something.”

“What is it?” Minnie whispered, brown eyes wide.

“The Ghoul King’s real name.”

“His... _ real _ name?”  She shivered, wasn’t sure why.  Mickey nodded, pausing just a second before lowering his voice, as though they might be overheard.

“The Phantom Blot.”

“The Phantom…”  Minnie started, as if something cold had splashed over her, and Mickey recalled too late how the recollection had been almost painful for him.  He caught Minnie’s shoulder, horrified, as he watched her wince, but after a moment, it seemed to pass. She looked up to meet Mickey’s worried eyes.  “The Phantom Blot,” she repeated, very quietly. “I - I can feel it in my mouth - like I’ve said it before, but … there’s nothing else there. I’ve forgotten it.  Oh!” She scrubbed her fingers over her temple in frustration. “I wish I could just….”

“Don’t worry.  You will. We all will - soon.  I’m sure of it now.” He shrugged as she studied his face.  “I don’t know how to explain it, but somethin’s different. I feel … like I’m close t’finding something I’ve been missing all along.  I’ve almost got it Min, I  _ know _ it.”  

He watched her nod firmly.  “...We should tell the others.  Do you think the amulet can help us find them, too?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe. I never thought about any of that when I-”  Mickey broke off as a sharp snapping sensation went off in his head, making him grimace.  Minnie gasped. “Ah...I’m okay. I just … for a second there - I-I’m okay now.” He furrowed his brow.  “...I can’t remember what I was gonna say. Oh, well. Here.” He reached out and lifted Minnie’s hands to the amulet, settling his own on top of them.  The gem glowed so brightly that it almost seemed to hum. Pluto sat down patiently to wait, tail tapping the floor. He had, apparently, a good feeling about how things were going, too.  Mickey closed his eyes, concentrating. He could reach out for them, if he tried. The amulet could guide them, couldn’t it? It had protected them so far, that’s what it was -

_ That’s what it was made for _ .

Mickey sucked in a breath as another spike of pain shot through his head.  Pluto got to his feet, toenails scratching on the floor, and he gave a low growl.  Mickey reached out toward him. “I-it’s okay, fella - I’m-”

He didn’t finish.  A huge hand closed around his collar and yanked him back, tearing his hand from Minnie’s.  She cried out, as Mickey opened his eyes just in time to find his face hauled around to stare right into Captain Pete’s eyes.  His stubbled cheeks stretched with a dangerous grin. “ _ Goin’ _ somewhere, Mousey?”

“Pete!”  Minnie reached out for Mickey, but of course it was no good.  Pete shoved her back and held her at arms’ length as easily as if she were a protesting kitten, even as he lifted Mickey off the ground entirely, laughing as he dangled there, scrabbling to remove Pete’s fingers from his throat.  Pluto’s eyes flashed, and he snarled dangerously, tendrils of smoke seeping from his nostrils, but Pete just shook his head.

“Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I was you.  Or else somethin’ real unpleasant might happen to yer buddy here.”  He patted the crossbow resting on his hip, alongside what must’ve been a bogglingly heavy length of chain, and Pluto froze, before drawing back a step, lowering his head.  He still growled just the same, as a warning. Pete snarled back, before returning his attention to Mickey. “Whole castle’s been actin’ awful funny, but it’s gonna take more’n that to try an’ sneak past  _ me _ .  Now why doncha explain to ol’ Pete why you ain’t tucked in yer room all cozy-like?”

Mickey glared up at him with fire in his eyes.  He was furious, worried for Minnie’s sake , yet he found that whatever the reason, he wasn’t afraid of Pete at all, not now.  So far from being cowed, he found himself more indignant than ever. He clawed against Pete’s grip. 

“Maybe you should ask your master about that,” he snapped.  “ - Tha  _ Phantom Blot _ !”

Pete’s eyes widened for just long enough for Mickey to know he’d startled him.  “Where’d you hear that name?” he growled. Mickey smirked a bit in spite of everything, even as Pete shook him roughly.  “Who told ya that name?!”

“Nobody,” he returned, truthfully enough.  “Nobody had to. I  _ remembered _ it, Pete!”  He kicked his feet, even though his squirming did little to loosen Pete’s grip.  “ _ That’s  _ how I got away.  His power’s weakening, isn’t it?!  The curse is startin’ to break!”

“Shut up!”  Pete shook him again.  “Ya think yer real smart, doncha?  You don’t even  _ know _ how far ya are from breakin’ free, an’ yer not  _ gonna  _ know - not ‘til it’s too late!”

“You’re wrong!” Minnie squeaked, emboldened by Mickey’s fearlessness, even if she was far from fearless herself.  “Mickey’s going to beat him!”

“Oh, yeah?” Pete shot her a look that made Mickey’s stomach tighten in spite of all his fine talk.  “Well, maybe it’s about time somebody gave ya a proper lesson fer once about gettin’  _ beat _ .”

The menace in his voice was so palpable that it sent a chill down Mickey’s back, but his hands were wrapped around Pete’s meaty wrist and he didn’t let go.  “...Then why ain’tcha beat me yet, Pete?” he asked suddenly, voice soft. “...Both of ya together - an’ we’ve still come this far. An’ he’s … he’s afraid of us.”  

Minnie sucked in a breath, shaking her head silently.  Don’t - Mickey, don’t! But there was something burning in those blue eyes that was achingly familiar.  She’d seen that look before. He stared up at Pete, right into his reddening face.

“You’re afraid too.”

Pete’s fist was so tight at his throat that he could hardly breathe; but he could feel it shaking.  It was too much. With a roar, Pete reared back his free hand. Mickey felt the thud descend against the back of his head, but he didn’t even register the pain from it.  All he heard was Minnie screaming again as the world went black.

 

~~~

 

The further the five friends went along, the more familiar the castle seemed to become.  By the time they were ascending the grand staircase, Goofy even knew how to find the throne room again, and so they raced there, bursting through the doors ready to take on Pete and the Ghoul King and anyone else they might encounter.  But the throne room was empty.

They all stood there a moment feeling like the wind had been knocked out of them.  Somehow, it had seemed a certainty that the Ghoul King would be there, waiting for them.  That’s how it had been before, hadn’t it?

“NOW what’re we gonna do?” Clarabelle moaned.  “We’ll have to search the whole castle!”

“We haven’t got the time for that.”  Horace crossed his arms. “We gotta think!  The Ghoul King’s gotta be here somewhere, he’s just got to.  He’s gotta know we’ve escaped by now if he’s gonna find out, so where could he be?”

Goofy rubbed his temples.  “If I were a Ghoul King, where would I hide?”

“The dungeons?”

“No.  Tha great hall?”

“Armory?”

“What for?  Lil boy’s room?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“The tower.”

“That’s it!”

“What, he’s an idiot?”

“No, no, - a tower, a tower!”  Donald pointed wildly. “Like in tha window!”

“Of course!  With a clear view of the moon!”

Horace nodded.  “That sounds about right.  C’mon then, we gotta head  _ up. _ ”  They raced back out of the throne room headed for the stairs.

 

~~~

 

Voices.  Muddled and distant at first, but gradually growing more distinct.  Mickey moaned faintly; his head was throbbing in pain, dull at one moment, spiking sharply the next.  

“I told you to keep your hands off him!  Do you have any idea what will happen if he dies before I’m through with him?!”

“A lil’ tap on the head never hurt nobody,” Pete growled back.  “An’ I’m gettin’ real tired of listenin’ to yer gripin’. Mebbe you oughta start doin’ all the work around here instead of just flappin’ yer gums all the time.”

“What did you say?”  The Phantom’s tone was dangerous, but Pete wasn’t backing down an inch.

“You heard me.  An’ what’re you gonna do about it, huh?  Nothin’, that’s what. I think mebbe the little runt was right after all.  I think mebbe you’re scared of ‘im!”

“You babbling fool! You’ve never had the slightest comprehension of what’s at stake!  Well, you’ll understand soon enough.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise!”

The pair of them were arguing so intently by now, that neither one of them noticed Mickey start to stir.  But Minnie did. When Pete had struck Mickey, she’d fought so hard that eventually he’d wrapped a length of that chain around her and Pluto together, bundling them up like a parcel.  He’d intended it for Mickey, of course, but plans changed, and in the end, restraining the other two was far more pressing. Pluto’d sent licks of fire in all directions until Pete had finally tied his mouth shut with a hanky too, and he was muzzled still, slumped next to Minnie right where Pete had deposited them both.  He’d carried through through the castle and up past a metal gate, which he’d carefully locked up behind himself with more chain than Minnie could remember ever seeing in her life. Evidently, he didn’t want company.

They emerged at last out into the open, and Minnie had realized with a shiver that they were on top of the castle’s highest tower.  It was a round room, larger than she’d expected, but still much smaller than the throne room. There were no stone walls, but a cupula made of solid glass - or perhaps of crystal, and she shuddered to see how far away the ground looked.  You could see all the way past the dark forest from here. She wondered, just for a moment, if the Professor’s house was out there somewhere in the dark. How long ago that seemed now, the woods, and the professor, and the swamp...and Mickey.

She struggled again, looking toward him, wincing as the metal chains dug into her arms.  Pete had knotted the links over themselves, somehow, a feat which would’ve been impressive if it weren’t so brutish.  And Mickey, her poor, darling, Mickey. She ached for him, watching as he shifted his head slightly. He’d fought so hard to get this far, to take care of her, ever since this whole mess had begun, and now when he needed her most, she was helpless. 

“Never mind,” the Phantom was yelling at last, apparently disgusted.  He waved a hand. “Are the others still locked up?”

“How should I know?  The castle’s putting itself back to the way it was before!  Another one of yer bright ideas. Everything’s all turned around now.  I ain’t got a clue where they are now an’ neither do you. Anyhow, it don’t matter.  I’ve locked the doors up good an’ tight. Nobody’s goin’ in or outta this tower unless I say so.”

“Including us, I suppose.  Oh, well, that doesn’t matter either. Nothing else matters.”  He turned to look up at the sky. The clouds were beginning to clear, and a sliver of moonlight was visible.  It fell over the tower, and as the wind began to pick up, the beam of light slowly drifted closer and closer to the dias in the center of the tower.

Mickey took in a slow breath and opened his eyes.  It was dark out here, but still felt too bright. His head was aching terribly, too.  And Minnie...where was Minnie? He tried to sit up, but the wave of pain it set off made him nauseous and he couldn’t make it.  

“Mickey!”  It felt like weakness to cry at a moment like this, but tears stung Minnie’s eyes anyway.  He’d rested a hand over his face, but lifted it now, gaze unfocused, but searching determinedly until it found hers.

“...Min….”

She sat up, her face pale, prepared to scoot across the floor to him if necessary, but by now, the movement had attracted the Phantom’s eye too.  He turned toward them.

“So you’re awake.”

Mickey forced himself to roll over, to push himself up on shaky arms as the Phantom advanced to stand over him.  He stood there a moment, studying the young mouse in silence. It seemed to Mickey as though he knew he’d won, like you could see the victory in his eyes, hear it when he laughed.

“You know -  I really had decided it was best to get you out of the way. Now that you’re here, though, I have to admit that I’m enjoying myself. My only disappointment is that you won’t be able to fully appreciate any of this until it’s too late.  It would be so much more satisfying if you could grasp - but one makes one’s choices.”

He reached out suddenly, caught Mickey by the collar much like Pete had done.  But it wasn’t his hand that lifted him off the ground, it was an invisible force, cold and clammy, that forced him upward.  Mickey hissed in pain. He knew that cold touch, had felt it before, but… he couldn’t … he just couldn’t  _ remember _ ….

Something was happening.  There was a wind beginning to stir, but it wasn’t moving amongst those distant clouds.  It swirled around the tower, inside the tower, growing stronger with each revolution. The moon was growing brighter, and the light it cast felt strangely tangible.  

Mickey struggled, trying to peel that cold grasp off of him.  “...I won’t let you do this!” he gasped, unsure even quite what he was promising.  The Phantom just shook his head. “Poor little Mickey. There’s a certain poetry, in a way, seeing what you’ve become.  It was your destiny from the start.” Mickey felt that cold seeping into him, and he gasped as the sharpness of the chill made it harder to draw a breath.  The Phantom reached out suddenly and caught Mickey’s face in his hand. His real touch was colder even than the touch of his magic, and yet Mickey’s head felt like it was on fire.  His voice was as soft and smooth as velvet, mouth curled into a cruel smile. “...It’s just as I told you, boy. This could only ever end one way.”

He couldn’t breathe.  Mickey had struggled as hard as he could, but he felt so weak… and it was cold.  He could feel that pain in his head rising again, threatening to blot out everything else, plunge him back into darkness again.  He had to fight it. Minnie needed him. Minnie….

 

~~~

  
  


“C’mon, gang!  We’re almost there!”  Horace was leading the pack now with long strides.  “I’m sure these stairs will lead us out onto tha battlements.”

“Yeah, an’ from there, there’s a catwalk to the highest tower!”

“That’s right, I musta been up here a hundred times!”  Donald grinned. “Past this door, through the gate, and then out onto th-”

Horace threw open the door even as Donald described it and they raced up the steps - and stopped short.

There was the gate, right where it was supposed to be, and woven through its bars again and again was a huge length of heavy chain.  That had never been there before. They all stared at it stupidly for a long time, before Clarabelle gave a wail. “Oh no! We’re too late!  He’s locked us out!”

“What are we gonna do now?” Daisy raised a hand to her cheek, that same old sense of helplessness sinking over her again.  Were they going to be stopped at every turn? 

Horace took hold of the chains and pulled at them, but it was obviously no use.  They were so heavy and coiled so tightly, he wasn’t even sure they could’ve opened the gate had they possessed the key, which they didn’t anyway.  He kicked the gate in a sudden burst of rage.

“Damn it!  I oughta be there!  I’ve gotta stop this, I - _ I shoulda stopped this! _ ”  He crashed against the gate with both fists, rattled it like a madman, before slumping defeatedly as Clarabelle reached out to touch his heaving shoulders.

“...It wasn’t your fault,” she murmured, brow creasing deeply as though feeling a dull ache.  Horace didn’t answer, and she stood there rubbing his back a moment. 

Donald gave a start.  “Hey...wait a minute!”  He began rooting through his pockets, growing more frantic by the second, as Daisy watched him suspiciously.

“Donald…?”

“Ah HA!”  He produced a small bottle at last and held it victoriously aloft.  Goofy blinked at it.

“What’s that?”

“Magic potion!  I nabbed it offa that witch we met in the woods.  She said it was detangler or somethin’. Whatever, I don’t care; the point is, I’m gonna USE it.  Stand aside, Horace!”

“W-what…?”  Horace lifted his head just as Clarabelle yanked him out of the way.  Donald was marching resolutely towards the door.

“Hey, be careful with that stuff!” Daisy cried, alarmed.  “It could melt your beak off your face for all you know!”

“Good thing you love me for my mind an’ my hot body, right?” Donald grinned back, turning to liberally splash the contents of the bottle onto the chains, even as Daisy sputtered behind him.  They all stood expectantly watching as the liquid trickled over the chains, dripping through the links onto the floor. Nothing happened. After several seconds had ticked by, Donald’s wide eyes narrowed into a scowl.

“Aw, heck,” he offered, immediately before there was a loud bang and a puff of purple smoke.  The five of them recoiled as the chains began to shudder, and then the links began to break. They didn’t just slide free of each other, though - they popped free, snapping themselves into straight rods that went flinging off in all directions with little metallic pings, until the entire chain lay disassembled at their feet.  Donald lifted his head to take a peek, and from beneath his protective arms, Daisy looked out too, just in time to nearly get poked in the eye as Donald whipped his fists about in celebration.

“All RIGHT!” he crowed, before snatching her hand and racing to kick the gate open.  He raced through it with Daisy in tow and Goofy close behind. Horace lingered a moment longer, staring at all those little pieces of metal.

“...That shouldn’t’ve worked,” he murmured softly, to no one in particular.  A beat went by. “...Just plum shouldn’t’ve worked.” 

Clarabelle took his arm and he allowed himself to be drawn along after the others.

 

~~~

 

Mickey lifted his head.  Was he dead, or dreaming again?  He was standing in the throne room.  There was a figure seated on the throne too, but it wasn’t the Phantom Blot. It was an old, old man who smiled slowly, motioning Mickey to approach. He did. There wasn’t much strength in his hands, not back then, but what he had was clenched tightly.  He knew he was prepared to fight if necessary, but the old man didn’t look at all afraid. He almost seemed amused. “Have you come to challenge me, boy?” He asked at last, his voice rough with age, but still deep and commanding.

Mickey’s heart was pounding in his chest, but he nodded anyway.  “Yes,” he said simply.

“I see. And what makes you suppose you have the right to claim my power?”

Mickey swallowed. “... I haven’t got any more right to it than anybody, I guess,” he said at last.  It was a cagey response, and the old man knew it too. He raised a grizzled brow.

“...Yet you’ve come...all this way.”  He sat back against the throne, as if pondering.  “There are others, you know. With power far greater than yours.  Ambitions much deeper. Would you stand in their way?”

Mickey didn’t ask who he meant.  Didn’t need to. “I’ve met somebody like that,” he said at last. “An’...w-well...the truth is, I - I never wanted to be a king or anything like that.  But I’ve got a lotta folks I care about.” He looked down at his boots. “I know I ain’t as strong as the Phantom Blot, but ... I don’t think the Blot is the kinda guy who’s gonna treat ‘em right. So, no matter what happens, I still had to try.”

The old king smiled. “This is a land of shadow - a kingdom of night. Do you fear it?”

“Sometimes,” Mickey admitted. “But… seems to me like there’s just as much to be afraid of in the daytime, too.”

The King laughed rustily.  “Smart lad.” He sat up again, suddenly seeming much younger than he had, stronger too.  He extended a hand. “...Come closer, boy. Let me get a good look at you.”

Mickey obeyed, ascending the dias toward the throne, and as he extended his hand, he realized what it all was.  It was long ago, very long ago, it seemed, but as clear as if it had all been yesterday.

It wasn’t a dream at all. It was a memory.

I have to protect them.

I have to protect  _ her. _

 

~~~

 

“Let GO of him!”

The world got knocked at an angle, and Mickey suddenly found himself falling to the ground in a heap.  It took a second for him to realize what had happened, and by the time he had, the Phantom was whirling towards Minnie in a fury.  She’d gotten to her feet as the Phantom had held Mickey in his grip, somehow, chained together with Pluto and all, and plunged herself across the tower like a battering ram, crashing headfirst into the Phantom’s midsection.  He was gasping, flushed - and absolutely furious.

“You little whelp!” he snarled, lunging for her.  There was a sharp snap of electricity and the Phantom yanked his hand back again, yelping in pain, as Minnie’s necklace flashed with hot red sparks.  She gaped up at him, more surprised than anyone, and in the chaos, Pluto, now entirely overwrought, managed at last to wriggle himself out of the chains, falling onto his back with a plop, where he began thrashing his head around in a frenzy of growls trying to work Pete’s makeshift muzzle off his mouth.  “Why, you -!” Angrier than ever, The Phantom reached out again. 

“Don’t - don’t you  _ touch _ her,” Mickey gasped through gritted teeth, struggling onto his knees.  The necklace flashed brightly, but the Phantom grabbed it anyway, an inky purple stain spreading out over the amulet before he yanked it from Minnie’s neck with a sharp tug and threw it aside.  Mickey watched it clatter to the floor before the Phantom turned back to a horrified Minnie with a snarl, reaching out to grab her arm. He hauled her to her feet before Mickey could reach them, making her cry out in pain, before shoving her away so roughly that she fell to the floor.  “Take her!” he instructed Pete, who bent and hauled Minnie into his grasp. The Phantom turned again, trying to smooth his hair back into its original well-coifed shape. “Just as soon as I’m through with  _ you _ , maybe I’ll teach your little brat of a lover a sorely-needed lesson.”

Pluto freed himself at last, and leaped toward the Phantom with a roar, only to be thrown back by a blast of cold wind that sent him sliding all the way across the floor to the far wall, where he collided with the glass, yelping.  The Phantom rolled his eyes in obvious impatience. “And restrain that dog!” Mickey threw himself at the Phantom, swinging with punches that failed to land anywhere, until the Phantom caught him by the throat once more, that same icy pain choking him as he clawed at that unrelenting grip. “It’s too late, boy!  I’ve won! The crown is mine! It’s always been mine!”

He hauled Mickey upward and threw him down on the dias as the light of the full moon fell over them.  It was so bright, it felt searing. Mickey’s head hurt worse than he’d ever imagined anything could hurt, but Mickey didn’t care. It was all still a jumble, reality and dreams smearing together, and yet...lying there, staring up at the moon as it broke through the clouds, he actually smiled.

That’s right.  He had to protect her - all of them.  That’s what it had always been about, from the beginning - right from the very beginning.

“You’re wrong, Blot.”

The Phantom looked down at him, eyes wild in the moonlight.  Mickey looked back up at him. “...I ken remember… I remember yer name,” Mickey murmured.

The Phantom stared for a long moment before scoffing.  “...And what of it?” he jeered. But the smug look had faded in his eyes.  Mickey’s grin got wider.

“...That ain’t  _ all _ I remember.”  The wind was howling around them now, as Mickey rolled onto his stomach, then eased himself to his feet.  The Phantom knew he could stop him any time he chose. So why did it feel like he was frozen to the dias...?  

Mickey rose slowly to his feet, wiping his mouth.  There was a strange, almost wild look in his eyes. Minnie’s lips parted soundlessly, but she couldn’t even manage to say his name.  Even Pete seemed to sense something wasn’t right, and she could feel his feet shifting uncomfortably. It would’ve been easy for him to draw out his crossbow and put an end to all this once and for all - so why couldn’t he seem to move?

Mickey took one painful step, then a second, stronger than the first.  A third.

“...I think I finally see.  All this time … it was right in front of me.  All I had to do was claim it.” 

It was the Phantom’s face that went pale now.  He started to say something, but it just didn’t come.  He shook his head slowly instead, disbelieving. “No...you can’t...you  _ can’t _ be….”

“Can’t I?  But it all makes sense to me now.”  Mickey looked down, turning his hands slowly, as if seeing them for the first time.  The wind was still circling around them, but something in it was changing. It whipped at Mickey’s clothes, but he no longer seemed to feel it.  “Ya see...I remember  _ my _ name, too.”  He flexed his fists and opened them again.  Within his palms, a hot blue flame sprang to life, reflected in his eyes, flickering there like it came from within.  He studied it for a moment, fascinated, and then he lifted his head. The light in his eyes glowed hotly. A roar of thunder shook the tower, and the moonlight was slashed away into the darkness of a sudden storm.  But that piercing blue gaze remained, cutting through the dark, illuminated by flashes of lightning. And he grinned.

“I.. _._ ** _I am_** the Ghoul King!”


	11. The King

Power. The air crackled with it, a deep thrum rumbling through the castle.  You could feel it even before hearing it, but it got louder and louder, higher in pitch until something seemed to snap apart.  There was a flash of blue-green lightning, and a thunderous roar shook the tower. A storm began to rage inside the glass dome, matched only by the ferocity of the storm beating against it from the outside, although this was of a different kind.  It caught up to Goofy and the others while they were still on the stairs, racing up to the tower, and for a moment, they had to stop just to keep their balance. Something like a wave passed over them, showering them with sparks instead of raindrops, and when it had passed, something was different.

“The curse…”  Donald clutched at his head as Daisy gasped.  

“Mickey…” Goofy muttered.  He wasn’t even sure why, and then he was.  He remembered too, all of it, and spun to face the others, eyes wide.

“He needs us,” said Horace, never one to mince words even at a time like this, and he turned toward Clarabelle with a sudden clarity he hadn’t felt until that moment. “Whatever’s happenin’ up there - mebbe it’d be best if ya held back, just for a little, just until we know if it’s safe.”

Clarabelle looked at him in surprise, which transformed into open admiration before shaking her head, smiling. “Horace, you darlin’ fool! If you don’t stop blocking these stairs, I’ll climb over top of you.” Horace opened his mouth to argue, but gave it up before starting. Anyway, he was smiling too.  They took the rest of the stairs as quickly as they could, two or three at a time in Horace’s case, and gained the top of the stairs at last, almost tumbling out onto the tower floor.

Mickey threw his head back with a laugh.  He could feel it, he could _feel it_ .  For the first time since he’d woken up alone in the wilderness, that curious sense of weakness was gone, and at long last, he finally understood why it had been there in the first place.  He _had_ been weak, powerless, stripped of his magic.  It was like missing a limb. But now! He’d never felt like _this_ , not even _before_.  He lifted his hands, let them spark and crackle with fire, blue and green flames dancing from his fingertips.  Even his clothes changed, the drab, deep blue catching flame and shifting until the fabric looked like the fire itself, throwing flashes of light as he moved. When his eyes lifted again, they seemed to have caught flame too, pale icy blue flickering in their depths.  All around him, the air seemed to crackle and warp, as his magic sprang to life once again. The curse was breaking, crumbling into dust.

“I’m the Ghoul King,” he repeated, tasting the words on his tongue. “... I remember.   _I remember!_ ”

Pluto noticed the others first, and gave an excited bark.  Captain Pete saw them too, and realizing they were suddenly outnumbered, shot a panicked look up at the Phantom Blot.  But if he was hoping for some sort of reassurance, there was none to be found. The Blot wasn’t even looking at him, was staring at Mickey instead.  “That’s not possible,” he whispered. “It _can’t_ be!”

Mickey studied him with an oddly detached expression, shaking his head slowly.  “But … why? I don’t quite...mm.” He flinched, as something twinged in his head like before.  This time, however, instead of leaving pain behind, it felt like something was breaking free, and he felt a flood of relief instead, lifting a hand to touch his head.  He felt so much lighter it almost made him dizzy, like he was spinning around with the wind.

_Strength shall not claim strength. From one unto another, in peace, shall strength be claimed._

 

~~~

 

“Walk with me, boy.”  The Ghoul King rose to his feet with surprising strength, and motioned for Mickey to follow.  He did, and they walked slowly through the castle, down a hallway lined with a great many windows.  Light streamed through the stained glass, making beautiful patterns on the floor. “Do you know how I came to hold my magic powers?” asked the old king.  Mickey shook his head. “I thought not. ...Many years ago… the first Ghoul King made a pact with the spirits of this land. They agreed to share their strength with him.  A power beyond anything on this mortal plane.”

“An’...what did he haveta give up in return?”

The old king chuckled.  “...A wise question. But one many people aren’t prepared to ask.  In return for this great power, he swore an oath to protect this land, and everything in it.”

Mickey thought about that for a moment.  “If tha spirits were so powerful, why did they need protection?”

“Ha!  Another wise question.  Because the Ghoul King possessed one thing the spirits did not.”  He stopped and so did Mickey, turning to look up at him. “Mortality.  A life to be lost. Without that, you can never truly belong to this world.  You’re forever somewhere in between. The Ghoul King must be able to live in the daylight, but walk unafraid into the dark.  He must stand in the path of evil men and spirits alike. He’s the only one who can.” The Ghoul King looked closely at Mickey.  “...Would you challenge me for that power?” he asked for a second time.

Mickey looked troubled.  “...None of this is like I expected,” he admitted at last.  “That stuff you said about protectin’ this land - I think I could do that, if I had to.  But I don’t wanna fight you. M-maybe I could just help ya somehow. Help you stop the Blot.”

The King smiled.  “...A generous offer.”  He stopped and turned to look up at the stained glass for a moment, running a hand over his beard.  It was white now, but there was a tint to it that suggested it was golden long ago. “I have fought for many years to protect this land.  And now I’ve grown old. My time has come to an end, Mickey.” He fell silent a moment, then turned and rested a hand on Mickey’s shoulder.  It took him a moment to blink in realization.

“Hey!  How’dja know my name?”

The King chuckled once more.  “...The Power of the Ghoul King is a _gift_ , young friend.  It was agreed so in the pact long ago.  It cannot be taken by force, it can only be given up.  Passed without resistance from one ruler to the next. Once, I would’ve thought it unimaginable.  But now - now I know it will be kept safe when I’m gone.”

Mickey looked up at him, wide-eyed.  “I-I...I’m not sure I understand.”

He felt the Ghoul King’s hand rest on his shoulder.  “You will.”

 

~~~

 

“Mickey?  Mickey!”

“Huh?” Mickey blinked, turning towards Daisy.  He’d been draped over his throne, because he’d agreed to meet her there, but as usual, his thoughts had wandered off.  “Were you sayin’ something…?”

Her eyes narrowed, and her beak got that pursed look it took on sometimes - but usually when Donald was involved.  “Several things, actually. Will you stop daydreaming for five minutes and listen to me? I’m not going to get wrinkles around my eyes studying these old alphabets just for you to stare off into space.  Do you know how long I’ve spent learning to write this stuff?! Now look - this is the inscription I’m thinking of for your window. It’s ridiculous you haven’t settled on something yet, after all this time.  I don’t care what it is, but we’re starting on that window THIS YEAR! Mickey!”

“Huh?  Oh - oh, yeah - sure, Daisy.”  But he wasn’t listening at all.  “By the way - er - you ain’t seen Minnie anywhere around, have you?”  He drummed his fingers on the ornate arm of his throne. “I’ve been lookin’ for her all mornin’ and I’m startin’ to think she’s avoiding me.”

“Mmm, your Royal Court Zookeeper?  Hm, that is, Spirit Minister?” Daisy mused, as if she didn’t know perfectly well his business with Minnie was strictly personal rather than official.  “Maybe she’s terribly busy with arcane relations and doesn’t want to be pestered” He turned to look at her, blinking again, Daisy cast a casual grin back at him before taking pity on the poor king.  She lifted her chin and bobbing it down toward the far end of the throne room. “Or maybe she’s right over there and you’re just distracted today.”

“Eh?”  He sat up straight, turning to see a little figure just disappearing from sight into the hall.  He shot up off the throne just as she slipped around the corner, descending from the dias in two long bounds, forgetting all about Daisy, who fortunately did not mind, given the circumstances.  She saw herself out by the other door as Mickey crossed the throne room, passing Goofy on the way, Mickey’s stewart, as well as simply his friend.

“Oop!  Hiya, Miss Daisy!  Didja figure out that window yet?”

“No, not yet.  Mickey can’t concentrate on a thing, he’s got something else on his mind.”

“He does?  Like what?”

Daisy just smiled.

 

“Minister!  Oh, Minister!”

He had the pleasure of seeing the last visible inches of her gown stop short, and then slowly they swept across the floor as she turned and peeped around the pillar.  He all but skipped up to her and planted his elbow against the marble. His face, if he could’ve seen it, was spread across with possibly the most obnoxious smile humanly possible, made all the more irritating for the fact that the face was a handsome, youthful one to start with.  An ugly face would’ve at least made it a little amusing; a handsome face made it unforgivable. His Spirit Minister, who was at least used to these disgusting displays, faced him calmly enough, folding her hands neatly together.

“Yes, Your Majesty?” said she, with a primly arched brow.  Her professionalism did not move him. He kept right on grinning and let his head drop a bit to one side in an infuriating manner.

“It’s awful lucky I caught ya jus’ now, Minister.  I’m in bad shape, you know.”

“Oh?  You’re not feeling well, Your Majesty?” A flicker of genuine concern crossed her delicate features. The King nodded.

“Just terrible!  It’s - it’s my heart, y’know.”  He made his eyes very wide, which he shouldn’t have ever been allowed to do, king or no king. No one should.  “...It pains me jus’ awful. Why you should feel how it’s hammerin’ away.” He reached out and took her hand, drawing it to his chest, where he held it over the offending organ.  “...Ken ya feel it?”

She pursed her lips, turning to face him more fully. He could see her deciding whether or not to be cross with him for his tomfoolery, and he wasn’t quite sure whether she’d made up her mind yet as she drummed her fingers against him. “Are you quite sure this problem requires MY expertise?  It sounds like you should consult a physician.”

“Aw, heck!  I could keel over by then.  Besides, yer always so good at understandin’ - oh, you know - creatures and everything.”  His eyes fluttered, his face a study in quiet, noble suffering. “Is a king’s heart so diff’ernt?”

She wrinkled her nose at that, as well she might.  “... Hmmm. Well, how long has this been troubling you, Majesty?”

He rolled his eyes vaguely.  “Oh...well… ages, I guess. Only it’s just got real bad recently.”

“Recently?”

“Uh huh.” His eyes made a circuit of the room and landed back on her face. “I noticed it especially just now - when I saw _you_ standin’ here.”

“I see.” She looked at him coolly. “And… I guess you’re having chills, too?”

“Oh - yeah, all th’time.  Terrible chills.”

“And… the shivers?  And goosebumps all up and down your spine?”

She was very close to him now.  He blinked slowly. “... _Yeah_ ,” he breathed.

“Well … in that case … I’m afraid there’s only one treatment.”

“Mmm...an’ what’s that?”

The Minister appeared to ponder a moment, and then her eyes turned up to his again, gold flecks shimmering in their soft brown depths.  “...Toadstool tonic.”

The King gasped. “What!?”

“With extra slime.”

“That’ll kill me _faster._ ” His fingers squeezed her waist plaintively. “Aw, c’mon, ain’t there anything else you ken give me?”

“Mm… well, there is _one_ thing… but it’s a very powerful spell. You might never be the same again.”

“I’ll chance it. Whatcha got?”

Her nose crinkled. He loved that. “...I recommend a witch’s kiss, my King.”

He didn’t even wait to process her giggling, sweet as it was.  He drew her right in and kissed her, shivering in earnest when her arms went around his neck.  When he had to take a break in order to get his breath back, he nestled his cheek against hers a moment, rocking her thoughtfully to and fro.

“...Did ya really like yer present?” he asked her quietly, and felt her nestle her head against his shoulder to look at the gift he’d given her. The most recent one, anyway.

“I told you so already,” she reminded him.  “I love it.” He looked down to watch her straighten the amulet hanging around her neck on its delicate chain and give it a fond pat.

“Ain’t just sayin’ that because I gave it to ya, though, are ya?  An’ secretly you think it’s the ugliest thing you ever saw?”

She laughed, kissing him again.  “Even if it was, I _would_ still love it because you gave it to me.  So there’s no helping that anyway.”

He shrugged.  “Guess you’re right.  Hey...Min….”

“Hm?”  She looked up at him again, tilted her face against his hand as he reached out to brush his fingers across that one little curl of hers he liked so much, the one that rested right against her rosy cheek.  She had flowers in her hair again today, too. He really loved that.

“There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you about.  For some time now, actually.”

“Oh?”  She set her hand on top of his, stroked her fingers across it.  “And what’s that?”

“Well…” he averted his gaze with a nervous little smile. These moments always went so smoothly in his head, and yet the real ones made him sweat.  He reached up to lift the gem in her necklace on one fingertip, turn it this way and that so he could see the sigil glinting in its depths - the one he’d placed there.  A charm of protection - and a symbol of devotion. Either way. The gem glowed as he touched it, the magic embedded in it resonating with his own - and with hers, as the light grew brighter each time her fingers brushed his. “It’s just … while I was makin’ this… I couldn’t help feelin’ like I oughta be givin’ ya somethin’ diff’rent.”

“Different?”  Minnie tilted her head.  “What do you mean?”

“Mm…” He could feel his cheeks getting hot, but he was no coward.  He took both of her hands in his now and held them, running his thumbs lightly across her knuckles.  “Feels like it’s about time I gave ya somethin’ better. Somethin’ t’show ya what I really think of ya.”  He was looking down at their joined hands, but his eyes lifted to hers just for a second. “If...if I thought you’d like to have somethin’ like that, a’course.”

Her lips parted and he felt her take in a little breath.  “...Mickey?” she said very quietly, and he held her hands tighter.

“Minnie, do you think…?”

She waited for him to go on, holding her breath, but instead, a strange look came over Mickey’s face in the brief moment of silence that passed.  He could feel it - like a shadow falling across the moon. His gaze flickered from Minnie to look past her - out toward the tall windows that lined the hall.  “...Somethin’s wrong.”

“What?”  It took her a moment even to understand, as engrossed as she’d been in what he’d been saying before.  But she read the look in his eyes clearly enough now, knew that it was serious. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Mickey took her by the shoulders and drew her around behind him.  She turned to look the same way Mickey was looking.

A dark figure stood in the hall.  The windows were still closed, but both mice knew at once that didn’t matter.  Even if they were locked, it wouldn’t have stopped him.

Mickey tensed.  He didn’t even need to summon his General; he would come anyway.  But it wasn’t the point. _He_ was in the castle, had slipped in without resistance, and Mickey already felt responsible.  Had he been so distracted as that, letting his guard down so completely - or had he just been oblivious to magic working around him, weakening his defenses?

“Th’ Phantom Blot.”  Mickey couldn’t keep the disdain from his voice.  “...Somehow, I’m not surprised. You just couldn’t resist makin’ another appearance, could you?  Well, you’ve got a hell of a nerve - after everything you’ve pulled, you still think you can just waltz into my castle uninvited?  I went easy on you the last time we met, but you’ve been warned already. I ain’t gonna play around with you anymore.”

“Playing around?  Oh, but my dear King, I assure you I don’t consider this a game.”  Mickey felt Minnie clutch his arm, and his stomach twisted. He wouldn’t have wished her away from his side for anything, except at a moment like this.  But then where else could he protect her better?

“You’ve got ten seconds to tell me why you’re here,” he said shortly.  “An’ they started five seconds ago.” The Blot grinned broadly.

“Why, it’s a diplomatic visit, of course!  I understand that we’ll all be wishing you joy in short order.  Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’ve heard rumors through the grapevine, as one does, and I’ve come to wish you well!”

Mickey shot a look at Minnie.  How the hell did the Blot - well, Mickey supposed it couldn’t have been that great of a secret, anyway.  The whole kingdom probably knew how he felt about Minnie, about what was bound to happen sooner or later.  Still, it hadn’t happened _yet_ , and this wasn’t at all how he wanted the conversation to go, either.  He didn’t know if the Blot had exceptionally good or just exceptionally lucky timing, but either way it couldn’t really have been any worse.  Mickey was furious. “Ya’ve come t- oh, gimme a break!”

The Blot quirked a brow.  “You don’t believe me? I’m hurt.”

“That’s a shame,” Mickey said shortly.  “Anyhow, if it’s all hugs an’ congratulations, you can send me a nice letter.  I promise I’ll keep it tied up with a ribbon an’ everything.”

The Blot laughed, but Mickey didn’t join in.  “Ah, yes, you’re so like the old man at times.  I’m sure he’d be delighted, after all these years, seeing how you’ve come of age, ruled in his place - claimed the full breadth of his power for your own.  Certainly, he could be eccentric - _particularly_ towards the end - but even I can’t deny he was a powerful king.”

“So is Mickey,” Minnie interjected, couldn’t help herself.  The Blot raised a brow.

“Hm.  So he is.  Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten our previous … misunderstandings.  I can’t deny we’ve had our disagreements in the past, but that’s all behind us now, wouldn’t you agree?  After last time -”

“I know what happened last time,” Mickey all but snapped.  “An’ so do you. Or did tryin’ ta have me kidnapped outta my own bed slip your mind?  Or trying to sink my ship in the straits so I’d beg ya ta save us? Or how about tryin’ ta steal my throne out from under me at my own coronation?!”

The Blot chuckled.  “Your Majesty, please - that was ages ago!  We’re both entirely different people now.”

Mickey snorted so hard it made his nose tingle. “I’ll just bet.  What do you really want, Blot? You didn’t come here to jaw about the good old days - an’ you ain’t gettin’ invited back, neither, so you might as well scram.”

“Perhaps you’re right.  I suppose it was too optimistic to think otherwise.”  The Blot’s face was obscured in shadow, but his eyes met Mickey’s now, and he felt his skin prickle with goosebumps.  For the first time, his anger was tempered with caution. He wasn’t afraid, but he could feel the Blot’s magic around them.  He wasn’t just there to be an annoyance - there was something darker at work. Mickey’s blue eyes sparked dangerously. Outside, a sudden fall of rain began to spatter against the windows, lightly at first, and then with growing intensity.

“...My magic is still more powerful than yours,” he warned quietly.  “You oughta know that by now.”

“Hm.”  The Blot placed his hands together, as if in thought.  “...Indeed.”

“Mickey!”

“Your Majesty!”

It was Donald, with Horace close behind.  Mickey glanced to see them running to his side, weapons drawn, and he felt a surge of relief.  Even knowing he could take on the Blot himself if necessary, it was much better to have his friends beside him.  Horace immediately put himself between the Blot and the young King, while Donald took up his position at Mickey’s side.

“What’re you doing creeping around here again?  Didn’t we teach you enough of a lesson the last time?  I’ll teach you another one, you no-good, shadowy creep!”

“Take it easy, Donald.”  Mickey stood up a little straighter.  The Blot had always been uniquely good at rattling him somehow, but he was still the King.  “...Our old friend here was just leaving, I think. Isn’t that right, Blot?”

They all stared at one another, the five of them, until the Blot lowered his chin, seemingly acknowledging himself outnumbered.  “...Perfectly correct, Young Majesty.” He bowed slightly, backed away with the unnaturally quick, smooth gait that Mickey always found so unnerving. Then, pausing, he brought a hand to his chest.

“Oh! Dear me, I almost forgot. I have something for you, Majesty - a small gift.”

“Thanks. You ken leave it with my General.  Or better yet, you ken take it back outta here when you go,” said Mickey, a little ruthlessly. The Blot gave a short laugh.

“You wound me, Majesty!”

“That’s too bad.” Mickey took a step forward now, feeling himself rapidly losing his patience. “Get out of my castle, Blot, before I toss ya out with my bare hands. I know you’re here ta cause trouble and I ain’t in the mood.”

“Now yer talkin’,” snorted Donald. The Blot laughed.

“My _dear_ King Mickey - always straight to the point. I’ve always liked that about you, you know, it saves so much time. Very well, let us drop all pretenses, shall we?”

Mickey was braced for a blow, and sure enough, it came - not from the Blot himself, but behind him. The sky outside had turned pitch black by now, and a howl of wind swept through the turrets as rain battered the walls, thunder rumbling overhead. _That_ wasn’t so surprising; powerful magic often disrupted the weather. But Mickey sucked in a breath as magic swept over the room like a pressure wave. The castle windows shattered. He turned automatically to shield Minnie, which was just what the Blot wanted. In the moment Mickey was distracted, a blast yanked him back, sending him sliding across the marble floor until he crashed into the wall, pinning him there with shackles of swirling wind. Minnie gasped, but when she tried to run to him, a cage of winds held her back too, slashing at her face and hands when she tried to reach through it.

“Mickey!”

Horace was struggling to lift himself to his feet now, too, and to help Donald, as the pair of them wrestled against the wind to get to the king.

“Yer Majesty!”

“We’ll help ya, Mick!  Just...augh!” Horace fell to one knee as the wind forced him back, losing the one or two steps of progress he’d managed to make.

The Blot was approaching Mickey now, clearly pleased with his handiwork. Mickey glared daggers at him. “Real cute, Blot. Now, how long do you think you can hold me like this? It better be long enough for ya to get a good head start or I ain’t gonna be responsible for what happens!”

The Blot looked more delighted than ever. “Ah! More of your charming exuberance, King. You’re quite right - you see?  I admit it freely. With things as they are, it’s proven quite impossible for me to defeat you in battle. The ancient magic is more powerful than mine.”

“I’ll say it is,” Mickey snapped.  He kicked a foot hard, and a blast of blue light snapped in the Blot’s direction, which he adroitly sidestepped, shaking his head.  

“And yet, that only proves my point.”  He paused, looked down at Mickey almost thoughtfully. “The throne _must_ belong to me.  I have to claim that power for myself.”

It was about as much as Mickey could take. He was disgusted enough that the Blot had managed to get past his defenses and into the castle in the first place; to have to stand there and listen to him while Minnie looked on in fear was insufferable. He struggled against the bonds holding him back, hissing as the swirling winds stung his skin. “You’re outta your mind,” he snarled, fists clenching tightly.  “You know th’rules as well as I do. The pact is _my_ bond, not yours.  An’ I’ll _never_ give it up to you, Blot!”  Blue light was gathering in Mickey’s chest now, glowing in his eyes. Just a little longer….

The Blot was observing him closely, gesturing freely as he spoke. “Yes, you refuse to surrender it willingly, don’t you.  Ever since the day you took the throne, we’ve played this game. I challenge you, and you fight back. You’re fighting back now!”  He sighed. “In a few moments, you’ll break free of your bonds. I can’t possibly hope to hold you for long. Even if I could, there are your servants to think of.”

As if on cue, Goofy appeared at the end of the hall, skidding as he rushed through the doorway.  He stopped short when he caught sight of the Phantom Blot. Pluto was close at his heels, and he lowered his head when he saw what was happening, giving a deep growl.  The Blot spun back to the king with a triumphant shout. “Ah ha! You see? Here they come, rushing to your aid, one by one.”

Daisy and Clarabelle appeared, had run through the throne room to the source of the commotion.  They couldn’t get any farther, had to cling onto the pillars to avoid being forced back by the wind.

“Horace!” Clarabelle cried, as she saw him rise and then stumble to his knees again, shielding his face as the swirling winds slashed at him.

“Stay back!” he yelled in return.  Pluto barked wildly, sending lashes of flame shooting in all directions - but the wind blew them back in his face, making him whimper and shake his head to get rid of the sting.  Mickey growled.

“But this time - this time I’ve finally found the answer.  It’s all so simple, you see,” explained the Blot, with apparently infinite patience.  “It’s _always_ been so beautifully simple.”  He bent close to Mickey’s face, looked at him with an almost fond intensity.  “...I’m going to defeat you without lifting a finger.”

“Like hell you are!”  Mickey’s fists were clenched so tightly they were trembling now as he struggled against the Blot’s magic.  It was working, he could feel it. A moment more, just a moment, and he could do it, could break loose and then he would make the Blot pay for this, all of it - the Blot seemed to sense it too.  In a flash, he darted a hand out and caught Mickey’s head, shoving it back, fingers pressing into his temples. The touch was icy cold, and Mickey dashed his head from one side to the other as hard as he could to dislodge it, but the Blot’s grip only grew tighter, until it felt like he would crush the bone entirely.  Mickey cried out, straining to free himself. Minnie - his friends -

The Blot smiled, bending to murmur in his ear.  “You’re not going to fight it. You’re not even going to know.  I don’t need to defeat you. I only need to make you forget.”

Mickey felt a sudden chill. “W-what-?” he managed, before he felt it strike him. Everything seemed to stand still.  The cold of the Blot’s touch seeped straight through his head and inside him, and in that one moment, Mickey looked toward Minnie.  Her eyes were wide in horror; she’d freed one hand and was reaching out for him, but there was a wind roaring through the castle now and he couldn’t hear her.  He tried to talk, tried to answer her, but she was fading away - everything was. It was too late to stop it, and as the cold devoured his thoughts, he looked at her, only at her.

“Minnie...It’s gonna be okay,” he managed, even as darkness enveloped him.  He hardly knew what he was saying, but he knew what he felt. “I’ll find you!  I promise!”

She was still screaming his name when the Blot dropped him to the ground, limp and unresisting, his blue eyes dark and unfocused before he lost consciousness.  But the inky chill didn’t stop there - it spread out across the floor from where Mickey had fallen, black rivulets darting faster as they grasped hungrily for more.  Minnie shrank back against the wall, but she couldn’t escape them. They clawed their way up her dress even as she screamed, slipped between cracks in the stone floor to find the fastest path to each inhabitant of the castle, and the Blot stood there in the midst of it all and laughed until the echoes of his victory reached every corner and filled it just as thoroughly as his curse had done.

 

The silence that followed was deafening, but the Phantom Blot didn’t seem to mind. He called out into the darkness for his servant.  “Captain Pete!”

A moment went by, and then the clatter of approaching armor-clad feet; one foot anyway.  The man’s other leg had been replaced by a wooden peg. “Yer Majesty?” he grinned.

The Blot looked pleased at the title.  “...Take the king - that is, the mouse - and his friends to the edge of the dark forest and leave them there.  They can enjoy a little vacation while I prepare things here.

“Yessir!  Er, but say…”  Pete trailed along as the Blot made his way through the throne room.  “How _did_ ya figger out how to beat the little guy, anyway?” Pete asked eagerly.  “The Blot waved a hand.

“A trifling little toy of mine,” he said modestly, although he was clearly enjoying the moment.  “A mirror with the ability to answer any question truthfully. ...Only _one_ question,” he admitted, almost as an afterthought, and then hastened to add, “But that was all I needed.  Even the Ghoul King couldn’t hide from my sight. The mirror revealed the secret. I couldn’t force him to submit willingly - but inaction is as good as abdication.  All I had to do was find a way to _exploit_ that fatal weakness.  It took time - far too much time.”  And several failed attempts, although the Blot didn’t mention this part.  “...But I finally created the perfect curse. And now the throne is finally _mine_.”

“Yeah?  A mirror like that could come in handy in plenny of ways,” Pete agreed, still thinking of that.  In fact, he could think of four or five things he would like to ask it right offhand. Even one question was something.  “Where is it now?”

But the Blot only scoffed.  “That old thing? I sold it to an old fool years ago for an exorbitant sum.  It was probably destroyed long ago.”

He ascended the dias and eased himself into the throne.  It was, he thought, a good fit. “...When the moon is full, my curse will be completed.  The pact will be sealed and I’ll become the most powerful mage who ever existed - I’ll rule over mortals and spirits alike!”

“And th’ mouse?” Pete queried.  The Blot waved a hand sharply.

“The mouse will be nothing.  His magic will be forfeit to _me_.  After that, you can do whatever you like with him, Captain - and his little servants.  But until his power is mine, he must be kept safe and sound - and out of the way.” He broke into a dark grin.  “...Exciting times are upon us, Captain! Every beast and monster in the kingdom will be at my command!”

“ _Our_ command, ya mean - just like we agreed, right?”

“Of course, of course.”  The Blot laughed loudly, and it echoed through the castle.  “I will bring about an age of power the world has never seen!”

 

~~~

 

Mickey found himself staring up at the moonlight, back in the present.  He still felt that curious sense of lightening, like something heavy had been lifted from his head.  Thoughts, memories - all of it rolled around in his mind, settling into place like falling leaves. He recalled dozens of moments, years, all in a few staggering seconds.  He still felt a bit dizzy, but beautifully, powerfully _free._  “You couldn’t kill me,” he mused aloud.  “...Ya didn’t dare. Even if ya got the throne, you’d break the pact.  All that magic, the power to rule spirts an’ mortals - you couldn’t give that up.  So you had to think of some other way ta challenge me. You tried to get me out of the way.  Made me forget who I am. Made all of us forget.”

“Mickey….”  The sound of her voice turned his head instantly.  Minnie. She looked dazed, like Mickey himself must’ve looked, but that couldn’t disguise the stunned realization he met there.  

“Min - !”  His Minnie, his own.  Pete was still holding her back, struggling to restrain Pluto with his other hand.  The sight sent a rush of anger through him so intense that Mickey forgot even about the Blot for a second, a dangerous shadow crossing his face.  “...Let her go-” A dark shaped loomed up before him and he stopped.

The Blot, shocked into immobility for a few seconds, had collected himself with some effort.  “...So you’ve regained your memory at last. I was wondering when you might. Altogether a most effective little trick of mine.  I must say it exceeded my expectations.”

Mickey’s fury was almost palpable.  Even Goofy, standing with the others, frozen at the top of the stairs, shuddered at it.  He’d never seen his friend this angry before.

“...You’ve failed, Blot.”  His voice was soft, but each word seemed like a slap.  “I remember everything. It’s over. Now get out of my way.”

“Captain,” The Blot called over his shoulder, eyes fixed on Mickey’s.  “Secure the girl. Regrettably, it looks like we’ll have to conclude matters the hard way.”

Mickey’s gaze snapped to Pete.  He didn’t move forward, but Horace did, giving an enraged shout.  “Why, you schemin’ snake! It’s past time ta teach you a lesson you’ll _wish_ you could ferget!”

“Oh, yeah?!”  Pete looped a meaty forearm around Minnie’s neck, yanking her up tight against his broad stomach.  She cried out, feet straining to even reach the floor. “Get back! Or I’ll snap her pretty little head clear off!”

“Careful, little mouse!” The Blot thrust out an arm to block Mickey’s path as he leaped forward.  Horace froze as well. “Make one wrong move and you’ll sorely regret it! You’re going to surrender the pact to me, one way or another.”

“You villain!” Clarabelle cried, but that was all she could do, and she looked to Minnie in despair.

If looks could kill, the Blot would’ve turned to dust on the spot.  But they couldn’t, and for an agonizing moment, Mickey stood paralyzed.  Pete’s gaze was darting between the king and his servants, and he stepped back, Minnie struggling in his grip, positioning himself to get space between them.  The Phantom’s eyes were locked on Mickey, wide and triumphant again. And then a curious thing happened. Pete took a step backwards, and at the same moment, Minnie let out a little growl.  “Oh, no you _don’t_.”  

One moment, everything was normal, and the next, impossibly, he slid back, as if the floor had simply failed to hold him.  He gave a yell, and as if in a dream, time seemed to slow down. Mickey caught a flash of something small and brightly-colored as it flew out from under Pete’s foot, and as he followed its trajectory, it occurred to him that it was a marble.  The Captain had stepped on it. But what was a marble doing…?

Marbles.  Professor Von Drake.  He whipped his head around to find Minnie, and as he did, he remembered it in sharp relief, could see it as clearly as if it were happening in front of him now.  It was like losing so much of the past had only crystalized what he could recall. He remembered slipping on a marble in the professor’s study, handing it to Minnie - she’d put it in her pocket, and it must’ve been there all the time.  It felt like a lifetime ago. The real Minnie in the present had managed to wrestle it out of her pocket, and she was only now retracting the hand she’d used to toss it desperately to the floor. As Pete fell back, his arms flew helplessly out, flailing to find something to grasp onto, to keep himself from falling, and Minnie fell to the floor, struggling onto her hands and knees to pull herself out of reach.  Her eyes lifted to find Mickey’s, and when they met, that’s when Mickey understood that she’d saved them all. He was dashing forward in an instant, knowing he wouldn’t get another chance.

Pete fell heavily to the floor, but was sitting up immediately, scrambling to lift his crossbow into position.  But Pluto was free now as well, and with a furious bark, he lunged, teeth sinking into Pete’s arm. “YEOW!” Pete dropped the crossbow and the bolt fired, ricocheting off the glass and finally coming to rest in the floor a few yards away.  He shook his arm to free himself, finally managing to fling Pluto away, and losing a chunk of his leather gauntlet in the process. He struggled to his feet as Pluto slid across the floor, claws scrabbling against the stone until he righted himself and turned to run back.  Pete’s eyes flew to his crossbow, but it was out of reach, so he snatched up a length of the chain he’d used to restrain Minnie and the dog and began to swing it. Pluto came to a halt, yelping, and Pete gave a throaty bark of a laugh. “Here, doggy, doggy!” he jeered. Pluto cowered back, but by now, Donald had had enough.

“Not so fast!  Ya big tough guy!”  He uncorked his little bottle with a loud pop and splashed the remaining contents in Pete’s direction.  “Take THAT, ya big palooka!”

Pete recoiled, catching the chain and pulling it taut, examining it for a moment.  But when nothing happened, he grinned toothily. “...Nice try, pipsqueak!”

Donald only smirked.  Pete lifted the chain and swung it over his head.  Bang! Purple smoke. Pete gave a surprisingly high-pitched shriek, leaping aside as pieces of broken chain began to shower down on him and clatter onto the floor.  Donald laughed so hard he had to hold his sides, was struggling to stop even as Horace pushed past him.

“All right, now I’m gonna settle you once an’ for all!”

In the midst of the confusion, Mickey made a beeline for Minnie, sweeping her up off the floor.  She clutched at his sleeves as he helped her stand. “Mickey,” she breathed, and for just a second, as they looked at one another, he was speechless.  Then he heard the Phantom Blot growl in rage.

“No!  No, no, no, _NO!_ ”  The Blot’s magic flashed out, electric and angry.  Mickey barely came to his senses in time, yanking Minnie aside as the bolt passed them, searing a blackened, smoking gash into the wall beyond.  was closing the distance between them, enraged.

“I’ve worked too long for this, too long!  If I have to beat you into a bloody pulp to make you submit, then I’ll BEAT you!”  He drew his hands upward, clawlike, dragging inky tendrils of dark magic up from the ground at his feet.  It seemed to enrobe him completely. A muscle clenched in Mickey’s jaw, and he turned, gently pushing Minnie toward Clarabelle, who had broken apart from the others.  She caught Minnie and drew her into a frightened embrace. For a moment, Minnie resisted, but a look from Mickey stopped her. The Blot didn’t seem to have any interest in her now, his eyes were fixed on Mickey, glowing with a sickly light.  “What are you, what have you ever been!?” He spat the words out like they were filthy. “An ignorant, pitiful little upstart! That old fool was out of his wits when he handed you the throne. All that power, power you’ve never understood, not for a second, no matter how easily you threw it around.  Power you could never hope to deserve!” The darkness around him seemed to tremble, but not with fear. With rage. He closed his eyes for just a moment, and when they snapped open, the light in them flashed crimson. “It should’ve been mine! It _always_ should’ve been mine!”

He jabbed a finger in Mickey’s direction and black bolts of magic reached for him, vines, fingers, spines, writhing and hungry and murderous.  And Mickey stood where he was, ducking his face behind his arms as it struck him.

“MICKEY!” Minnie screamed, reaching out for him even as Clarabelle clutched her arm to keep her from throwing herself into the path of that dark beam.  Even Horace looked up from his work, Pete’s collar clenched in his fist. Donald and Goofy stood tensed, ready to run to Mickey’s defense, if only they knew how to help.  The Phantom was roaring, one foot sliding forward as he struggled even to keep his balance as he threw himself into the assault. For just a moment, Mickey’s form became visible through the dark as blue flashes like lightning in a dark sky rippled around him.  His head was bent, body almost doubled forward as he fought to stay on his feet. The Phantom seemed to be struggling almost as hard, but he was pressing forward now, arms shaking even as he held them extended. There was something in his eyes, a crazed light. “It WILL be mine!” he snarled, voice tangling into the dark, echoing through the room.  “I’ll tear it from your soul if I have to!”

“He’s lost his mind, he’s gonna kill him!” Goofy gasped.

“But he can’t do that!” Daisy clutched at Donald’s arm in dismay.  “He can’t break the pact!”

“He’ll destroy it all before he’ll lose,” Donald realized grimly.

“We’ve gotta stop him!  We’ve gotta DO somethin’!”  But even as Goofy stepped forward, the force of that dark magic pushed him back, stinging his face like needles.  They couldn’t see Mickey now - the darkness had consumed even those flickers of blue light. The Phantom was advancing faster now, step by step.  His face was purple with effort, eyes reddened and popping, and that inky darkness was lashing back at him now too, tendrils sticking to his robe and arms, making his body look warped as they swirled around him.  He’d almost reached the place where Mickey stood now, and his hands had closed into fists. They shook as he squeezed them tighter and tighter, and he started to laugh.

“I… shall be...KING!”

Mickey was there.  Out of nowhere, he appeared, and he reached out.  His fist closed over the Phantom’s, and the wind shifted.  Blue light flashed, mingling with the darkness like paint, swirling around the pair of them.  The Phantom sucked in a surprised breath, but then he seemed almost pleased, pressing forward.  They struggled a moment, until the Phantom freed his hand, slashed it upward. Mickey dodged the blow, sent a bolt of his own hurtling toward the Phantom. It struck his shoulder, knocked him back, but he grabbed for Mickey again and they caught each other’s hands for a second time.  The swirl of magic was growing denser now, spirling around them like a whirlwind. Mickey’s arms were shaking; his entire body ached, but he didn’t blink.

He was strong enough.  He knew he was. He could protect them.

The wind stopped.  The air seemed to vanish from the room, sucked in an instant into a hole, smaller and smaller, vanishingly small, impossibly dense.  And then it let go.

A flash of blue light consumed the tower.  Minnie threw her arm over her eyes, turning her head away just in time, as the blast bumped her back into Clarabelle.  It sent Pete, crawling away from Horace with a badly bloodied nose and mouth, rolling head over heels toward the stairs.  But the Phantom was caught up and thrown like a ragdoll. It threw him against the glass dome and he fell to the floor in a heap as the light subsided into an angry nest of electric flame, crawling in blue-hot zigzags toward the sky in a hundred different paths, until they subsided into a faintly glowing pool on the floor around Mickey’s feet.  He stood there, rivulets of blue flame running over his body, seeking oxygen, head tilted faintly to one side, brow furrowed. His shoulders were tensed, fists closed tight, but after a moment, he drew in a slow, careful breath and opened his eyes, rolling his shoulders to try and unclench them. There was a trickle of blood running from his lip, another nick on his forehead, one across his nose - a close inspection would reveal countless nicks and tears in his clothes where dark magic had tried to pierce him - but that was all.

“...Maybe you’re right, Blot. Maybe I don’t deserve this power. Maybe no one does.” Mickey lifted a hand and wiped the blood from his mouth, brushed something ashy from his sleeve. “But I know one thing. I _am_ the Ghoul King. This world is my responsibility. I’ll never hand that power to someone like _you._ ”

The Phantom Blot was rising to his feet with obvious difficulty, arm curled across his gut in pain.  “...How _noble_ you are,” he growled.  “You must feel terribly proud of yourself.  Well, I’ve scarcely even begun!” He lifted an arm again.  Another attack. He’d throw wave after wave against the king, if that’s what it… took….

There was no inky blackness this time.  A weak sputter of blue sparks and then nothing.  The Phantom gaped at his own hand for a moment in shock, before looking up at Mickey, uncomprehending.

“...Wh...wha….” he stammered, gasping for breath.  “...What have you _done?!_ ”

Mickey smiled faintly, even though he looked more tired than gleeful.  “Just what I had to. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.”

The Phantom was still staring down at his hands.  He tried to summon his power again, but nothing happened.  There was no magic. It was gone. He looked around wildly.

 “Captain - Captain!”

He’d turned toward Pete, but found now that Pete was already halfway out of sight down the stairs.  He turned back, but all he offered the Phantom was a disgusted snort. “...Forget it! I ain’t as dumb as I look, ya know.  Yer on your own now, _Boss_.”

“PETE!  You - you!  Come back here, you fool! You _coward!_ ”  The Phantom was screaming at him by now, but Pete paid him no mind.  He disappeared down the stairs, and nobody tried to stop him. Horace’s knuckles were already tingling, and he wasn’t in the mood.  Besides, he knew what to do with Pete if he ever showed his face again. The Phantom clutched his head. “No, no, NO! NO!”

Mickey was approaching him slowly now, rolling his shoulders.  “...Ya know… a nice long vacation - no magic - … mebbe that wasn’t such a bad idea, either, in th’ end.  Gives ya some perspective, y’know. I think maybe you oughta try it, Blot. It’ll do ya some good. An’ if it don’t - well.  Let’s try an’ think positive, huh?”

The Blot had fallen to his knees, but he looked up at Mickey now, wide-eyed, as wind began to swirl around him once more.  

“What?  No - you can’t - NO!  MICKEYY!”

The whirlwind encircled him closer and closer and then… silence.

He was gone.

 

The storm outside had begun to ease, and the moon broke through the clouds once more.  It was so quiet in the tower that Mickey’s ears were ringing as he turned toward his friends at last.  They all stared at one another in silence, overwhelmed.

“...Ya won, Mick,” Goofy breathed.  The others thawed slowly, like a painting coming to life.

“We won.  WE WON!” Donald let out a whoop, and suddenly everyone was shouting, racing forward to encircle Mickey, slapping his back, ruffling his ears, hugging each other.  Mickey looked from one to another of them with a shocked, foolish grin on his face. Horace, his faithful General, ready to jump into any fight to protect him, Goofy, his Ranger and keeper of the forest, Donald, who was his Vizier and closest advisor, Daisy, Head of Court, and Clarabelle, Head of the Household, who’d helped him learn how to be any sort of a respectable king in the first place, Pluto, of course, his faithful pet and guardian, and … and Minnie.

She was smiling so widely her cheeks hurt, but like Mickey, she was silent as the others thundered with cheers around them.  He drifted forward, taking her hands in his. God, but she was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. It wasn’t as though anything had really changed - her clothes, like his had, back to one of the long, dark gowns she liked to wear - but she was still the same Minnie, dark and lovely.  It hurt him to think he could’ve forgotten a single second, no matter how strong a spell he’d been under, but he could regret it all later, if he had the time. For now, there were much more important things on his mind.

“Are you all right?”  He murmured, brushing his fingers across her cheek.

“I’m all right.  But what about you?  You must be -”

“I’m fine,” he interrupted before she could speculate on her fears.  His smile was growing now, lopsidedly, widening each moment. “I...I’m great!”

She shook her head.  “Oh, Mickey - you did it!”  She threw her arms around his waist and he pulled her in close.  They hugged each other so tight it almost hurt. To think, all this time….

Clarabelle descended on the both of them together, enclosing them in one big hug.  Then there were embraces to exchange all the way around, shoulder claps, a happy effort to shout over everybody who was shouting over everybody else.

“All right, all RIGHT!” Mickey bellowed at last.  “Now that I’m back in my rightful place, we’re gonna have some ORDER around here fer once.”

“Aw, phooey!” Donald scoffed.  Mickey squinted at him.

“AHEM!  Yer KING is speakin’!”

“Yeah, yeah….”

Mickey flourished a hand.  A new hat appeared on his palm, silky and shining, and much more dapper than the old one he’d worn before.  He settled it on his head and tapped it into a jaunty angle. “An’ AS th’ King, I say th’ first order of business is to get this castle cleaned up an’ set right again!  S’prob’ly got th’ Blot’s germs all over it!”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be sittin’ in that throne any time soon.”

“Eww!”

“Yeah, well, I say nuts to that!”  Donald reached up and gave Mickey’s hat a firm yank until it covered his eyes.  He pulled himself free as his friends laughed good-naturedly. Donald was grinning when he came into view again.

“I say the first order of business is to have a good, big celebration with lots ta eat an’ drink!”

A cheer went up from the circle and Mickey, scratching an ecstatic Pluto’s ears, dropped the hat onto the pup’s head with a grin.  “Ya think so, eh? Well, all right. Let’s say just a small celebration - two or three days worth.”

“Now yer talkin’!”  Horace clapped his back so hard that Mickey stumbled forward a couple steps, but he used the momentum to head towards the stairs as the group drifted along behind.  Then he stopped.

“Oh!  I almost forgot.  If we’re gonna get into a celebratin’ mood, there’s one thing missin’.”

“Missing?” Goofy scratched his head curiously.  If banishing the Blot wasn’t enough, what else could there be?  But Mickey only smiled.

“Yeah.  One more thing I gotta do.  Actually, it’s somethin’ I shoulda done a long time ago.  Minnie - ?” He turned to Minnie, who had been following along behind, and she flushed abruptly.  Somehow, she still wasn’t used to those icy blue eyes of his, even though her memory was as keen now as ever.  But then, they had never glowed so brightly before. Her lips parted as he went to her, a silent little question mark, and when he held his hands out for hers, she gave them willingly.  He didn’t say anything right away, and so the others stopped to watch - at least until Daisy, who realized first, and then Clarabelle began plucking at their sleeves.

“WHAT?” Horace demanded, before he was pulled into a near-headlock and hustled down the steps.  In a few moments, the two mice were alone in the tower.

“My King...?” she prompted him after a moment, teasingly - but then those eyes caught up to her again and Minnie tucked her chin toward her chest almost shyly.  A grin spread itself across Mickey’s face. He could get used to the sound of that - but there were other addresses that were sweeter still. He remembered something then, suddenly, and turned away from her, scanning the tower until he caught sight of a little red glint.  He left her there to retrieve it, the necklace he’d given her, and he brought it back, fiddling with the clasp a moment before he carefully lifted it to her neck again. She lifted her chin to let him secure the necklace in place once more.

“Ya know… th’ minute I laid eyes on ya in th’ swamp, I thought you were th’most beautiful girl I ever saw.  Knew from that minute I’d never meet anybody else like ya. I think I fell for ya right that minute.” He rested the amulet gently on her throat and grinned.  “...I just didn’t know it was th’second time.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye for a moment, but she was beaming at her feet.  “...I felt the same way,” she murmured. “Do you think … deep down… we never really forgot completely?”  

Mickey lifted one shoulder.  “...I can’t really say. Maybe I still loved ya without knowin’ it.  Or maybe I really did fall for ya all over again, just couldn’t help it.  But either way… I think I better ask ya somethin’ real quick.” He dropped slowly to kneel at her feet, eyes never leaving hers.

“...Marry me?”

He could feel her breathe in.  “Mickey….”

Her eyes were very bright.  Emboldened, his smile grew wider.  He brought her hands to his lips to kiss her fingers one by one.  “...Marry me. Be my queen an’ stay right by my side where you belong.  Where you’ve always been every time I needed ya.” His voice was a soft murmur now.  He released her hands, but they stayed there anyway, stroking his face as she watched him.  He leaned into her touch. “...I’ll always need you there, Min. Right beside me.”

She tilted her head, studying him. Thinking. Of course, she knew her answer, had known it long before he ever asked the question.Her hand cupped his cheek. “Then...I’ll be there.”  

His blue eyes sparked, as if the light in them could set her on fire too, and he rose up on his knees to wrap his arms around her waist.  She bent to meet him, tilting his face to find hers the way he’d so often done himself. And she was smiling, couldn’t stop, even as his mouth found hers.  That was all right, Mickey was smiling too. He slowly lowered the loop of his arms around her hips, breaking that kiss only long enough to scoop her up and rise to his feet with her in his arms, laughing that silver laugh of hers which his heart had always longed for.  It quickened now, just like always, bouncing off the glass and filling each corner of the castle, casting out everything else.

 

~~~

 

“There’s one thing I still don’t understand,” said Donald a very long time later, breaking a silence which had descended over the group.  By now, as their celebrating had begun to die down, everyone was in a comfortable drowsy state, the last of the spiced wine poured and being sipped slowly.  They’d transformed one of the castle studies into something more befitting a slumber party, particularly considering that somebody - probably Mickey - had, at some point, stolen most of the softest cushions in the castle and piled them up on a big comfy armchair until he’d constructed a sort of nest.  He was sprawled in it now, legs thrown carelessly over one ornate arm, head and torso nestled in the pillows, and, best of all in Mickey’s estimation, all of Minnie curled up in his arms, her head on his shoulder, her feet propped over his legs, her hand tracing shapes on his chest while he stroked her hair.  He was half-asleep, but not so far gone that he didn’t stir at the sound of his friend’s voice.

“Mm...what’s that, Donald?” he asked lazily.

“Well, how come we could remember some stuff, but not the rest of it?  And how come you couldn’t remember anything about who you are, but some of us could remember just bits and pieces?”

“I was thinkin’ about that too. Best I can figure, it was all because the Blot’s curse wasn’t quite as powerful as he thought.” He ran his fingertips softly down Minnie’s neck, smiling when she shivered and looked up at him. “I was the main target, obviously, but he knew he needed to get all of you out of the way too. So he built his spell with me in the middle, you could say, an’ it sorta splashed out from there. Instead of erasing everybody’s memories completely, it wiped out everything that had t’do with _me_ most of all.  But he bit off a lil’ more than he could chew, in the end.”

“Huh. So all yer moanin’ about being nobody special was just a trick so’s we wouldn’t be so sore atcha, is that right?” suggested Horace, grinning. Mickey chuckled.

“Maybe so!”

“An’ all this time, he was just waitin’ for the moon to rise so he could claim yer throne an’ you’d be none the wiser - not ‘til it was too late.  Oh, it just makes my blood boil!” Clarabelle had Horace’s head in her lap, but she sat upright now and almost banged a fist down onto his face without thinking.  Happily, she recalled herself just in time and sat back again.

“Well, he’s paying for it now,” Daisy reassured her drowsily.  She’d nestled herself up against Donald, and he had an arm flung over her.

“It’s kind of a shame, if ya think about it.”  Goofy was scratching Pluto’s belly thoughtfully, watching the pup’s leg kick aimlessly at the air in blissful comfort.  “...Real powerful magician like that coulda been a good friend to have.”

“Yeah.”  Mickey sighed.  “Woulda made everything a lot easier.  Heck - he probably woulda been the king to start with if that’s the sorta guy he was.  But he was really the one who never understood what it meant to be th’ Ghoul King. It was never about bein’ powerful.  It was about protectin’ everyone - not just the people but the spirits too. Even the monsters.” Mickey blinked, then tilted his head back ever further, looking across the room upside-down.  “...Ain’t that right, gals?”

Over in the corner, there was a clatter.  Two helmeted knights looked up from where they were attempting to play a game of rummy or something, although their cards seemed to be facing inwards and outwards both, heads turning this way and that as they tried to find the source of the speech.  Then they nodded noisily.

“That’s right, Mickey!” they cheered in unison, before turning back to their game.  

“We _knew_ we recognized his voice!” beamed one.

“ Our King throws the best parties!” said the other.  Mickey chuckled, settling his head down again, even as a cold hand brushed itself across his forehead.

_...Welcome home, dear one._

_...We missed you, friend._

He smiled faintly, as the presence receded.  Back home to the graveyard for now, he reckoned, safe and sound, like everyone else under his protection.  His eyes traveled over them. Donald and Daisy, Horace and Clarabelle, Goofy, Pluto. Safe and sound - and home.

He kissed Minnie’s forehead, and cuddled her close as she smiled.

 

~~~ 

EPILOGUE

 ~~~

 

Pete stomped through the woods, muttering to himself.  Truth be told, he hadn’t stopped muttering ever since he’d safely escaped the castle, and finding himself plunged into the dark woods in the middle of the night wasn’t improving his mood any.

Stupid Phantom Blot.  He should’ve known better than to trust anyone who wasn’t willing to break a few heads.  Next time, he’d know better. Darn magic, darn kings, and especially darn anybody who promised to make you leader of their armies, but only AFTER you busted your butt carrying out some sort of convoluted scheme.  From now on, it was straightforward, honest work only. Thieving, kidnapping, blackmail, arson and thuggary - those were the keys to a happy and contented life. Pete felt almost happy for a moment, reflecting on happier times.  He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t see a glint of metal on the forest floor until it was almost too late. He jerked his peg aside in the nick of time, as a large net whipped itself up out of the forest leaves, closing in on itself as it flew into the air.  He recoiled, scowling.

“What in tha hell..?!”

“AH HA!”  A duck leaped from the darkness, looking gleefully up into the net, until she realized it was empty.  Then her face puckered into a scowl and she shot a bitter look toward Pete. “What?! Why - you big clumsy fool!  You’ve set off my trap! Blast it all! Is there no end to this constant parade of oafs and oxes?”

“Mind yer own beeswax, lady.  It ain’t my fault if yer trap’s too sensitive.  Anyway, if yer trying to catch people, ya oughta use a fishline snare anyway - about yea-high.”  Pete indicated, then tossed a hand over his shoulder. “Bye.”

Magica De Spell - for of course, it was she - stared at him a moment before rubbing her chin thoughtfully.  “A fishline snare...eh? Big Boy! Wait just a moment!”

Pete paused, glancing back.  Magica grinned. “You seem to have some knowledge about these things.  How would you like the opportunity to be of service to the greatest sorceress the world has ever known?”

Pete shuddered.  “Sorceress?! Not another one!   Get away from me - I’m outta here!”

Magica had already frozen into a becoming pose, but she turned her head sharply.  “What?”

“Not a chance, lady!”

“But - hey!”  It was too late.  The big man had already crunched away into the woods, vanishing in the dark.  Magica crossed her arms in an offended huff. “Well - humph!”

 

~~~

 

Miles further still, Ludwig Von Drake walked through his house, blowing out candles as he prepared to retire for the night.  It was close to morning now, probably, but the Professor often kept unusual hours in his laboratory. There had been a real lulu of a storm that evening, but he’d been so busy that he hadn’t taken much notice.   He paused now as he passed the staircase which led up to tower room where he stored his magic mirror, thinking back to that little mice couple who had passed through. He wondered if they ever found the Ghoul King after all.  Strange, the whole business, but then life was often strange. That made him chuckle as he buttoned up his nightshirt and crawled into bed. Yes, life was strange - but then, he ought to know that better than anybody, he, the professor.  That was why he’d asked the mirror about it, after all. _Magic Mirror, what’s the real meaning of life?_  And he chuckled again at the memory.  It really was a pretty funny story.

He crawled into bed, bent over to blow out the candle, and settled back against his pillow comfortably.

A few moments later, he sat bolt upright.

“Good grief!  That little mouse fellow!   You don’t suppose…??” He sat there for a long minute, clutching the covers, before shaking his head.  “...No. It couldn’t be. Dat’s ridiculous, what - what am I thinking of?” He chuckled at himself as he lay back down, and rolled over, and went to sleep.

 

 

The End


End file.
